Jasper's Dawn
by Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan
Summary: Uh, excuse me... ma'am? Your name wouldn't happen to be Dawnette would it?" - "Sadly, it is. You ain't never hear of no sista' named Dawnette did you? And why call me ma'am? I'm not some old hootch you met many years ago—I'm a teenager just like you... now why are you staring?" Jasper/OC satire, romance, mentions of slavery, dream sequences, past-selfs, interracial, set in Twilight
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

 **AN: This is a sort of "testing the waters" prologue for a story that has been nagging my soul to be written and published. It is a Jasper/OC and partly a James/OC and does involve heavy stuff. This however is a preface/prologue that I want to see if anyone is interested in reading. So please, give it a chance. If this was okay, then the story will get better. I promise.**

* * *

 **PREFACE**

"Now remember, Bells... your cousin is coming down to stay with us and it'll be some changes around the—" Charlie abruptly paused, shaking his head. He grabbed his toothbrush, applying the minty, _Colgate_ paste before guiding the bristles up and down his teeth, all while staring into the mirror. "Hey, Bells! Remember your black cousin through marriage from your uncle? Well, things happened back in Georgia and she's coming to stay—" _Too straight forward..._ _Gotta ease' Bella in..._ he thought himself, combing fingers through his graying hair and rinsing his mouth.

"Wait... why would I say _black_ cousin? Bella knew and still **is** aware that her cousin's black..." Charlie said, thinking out loud. Charlie thought back to the skinny, tall Dawnette with a head full of kinky, black curls and the tiny freckles adorning her brown-skinned and heart-shaped face. When he told her and Bella whenever they'd visit and play down in _La Push_ with all the other kids, 'no re-enacting the civil rights times!'

 _That's right,_ Charlie chuckled to himself. _I wonder if little Dawnette is still the Zulu-nation'* spokesperson?_ Memories of the little ten year old girl down in _La Push_ came to his mind.

All of the _La Push_ children she and Bella used to play with sitting down on the beach, a nice bon-fire brewed and caramel-toned Dawnette— _Dawn_ , she liked to be called, standing over the children, piece of driftwood in her hands like it was a septor and the little mouth of hers running on and on about _complexion_ ; how they were all the same and color didn't matter. "The Militant Midget" everyone in La Push liked to call the young girl.

 _Shouldn't be that hard_... Charlie beamed internally. _Bella could use a spunky figure to bring her outta' that shell, anyways._

"Yeah," he nodded with a smile, straightening the collar of his shirt. The chief police officer of Forks holstered his pistol to his waist and grabbed his gear for a day on the force. "I can do this." He nodded once, giving himself a once-over before deciding his appearance was good enough. "Nothing but _two_ teenagers living under one roof with ya'..."

 _Yeah, two completely_ _ **different**_ _teenagers..._ he corrected himself. _But they're cousins, Charlie_ — _by marriage... and they practically_ _been hangin' out since they were in diapers... it should all be fine._

"Wait..." Charlie muttered to himself just as he was about to exit out the bathroom. _What if they don't get along like old times? And... Bella's got that new boyfriend, er... what's his face?_ _—Edward... and they're just so..._ _different_ _. Style-wise and_ _ **ethnic**_ _-wise... maybe this wasn't such a hot idea—_

"Charlie, are you still in there?" The middle aged man was snapped out of his thoughts once there was a light knock on the bathroom door. He quickly straightened his collar once more, huffing out a big wheeze of air before opening the door. "Mornin', Bells."

The brunette eyed her father curiously for a second before letting a light shrug play on her slim shoulders. "Good morning, dad." - "Um, is everything okay? You were in there... talking to yourself... for a _while_." Bella awkwardly sighed, biting her bottom lip at her father's ditzy gaze.

Charlie, mustered up all the strength he could, retorting to his daughter, "Everything's fine, Bells... but I have something important— _major_ to tell ya', uh... _sweetie_."

Raising an eyebrow, Bella nodded once. "... OK? Go ahead, shoot."

 _Here goes_... Charlie mentally kicked himself, sighing heavily.

"Bells—remember _Dawn_? You know, little _Dawnette_? Your cousin by marriage through your uncle and his wife, Aunty Bunchies?"

"Of course, dad. How could I forget her?" It was true; how could the brunette forget her father's brother/ her uncle's African American wife, Ms. _Bunchies_ a.k.a _Aunty Bunchies_? Caramel-complexion, big afro and large hips, tiny waist? Then her _cousin_ —Aunty Bunchie's daughter tied to Bella by marriage. Dawnette. Not only did she make mud-pies with Jacob down in _La Push_ —add on Dawnette and you had the three musketeers of Forks, Washington. There was no way she could forget the girl that rescued her from the brute child named Paul whenever he'd yank her pigtails. And that self-proclaimed attitude of African-pride Dawnette had. Uneasily forgettable. "We used to play all the time down in La Push with Jacob and the others... she was my favorite cousin—what about her?"

Charlie scratched the nape of his neck, continuing on, "Well, you see... she's coming down here to Forks..."

"Oh, that's great Charlie. When and how long does she plan to visit?"

The chief of Forks contained a smile, before telling her, "... Well, that's the thing. It won't be for a week or two—try the rest of her high school years until whatever she decides to do for college, Bells." Charlie braced himself. He had no idea how Bella would react to the news, especially since she herself had just arrived and only been there for a good three weeks. He waited, holding his breath before Bella's thin lips curved into a small smile.

"Cool, dad." Charlie breathed out at the response. "It would be great to see her again. When does she come up here?"

"Tomorrow, actually." He was relieved, to say the least.

"That's fine. I'll make sure not to have anything planned for tomorrow after school." Bella's phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her jeans' back pocket. "Charlie, that's Edward... do you mind if I get a ride from him to school?"

 _What a major relief_... Charlie sighed in his head. _And here I thought she'd freak on me._ He eyed his blushing daughter for a second before nodding once. "Sure thing, Bells."

Bella kissed him on the cheek before waving a _bye_ and rushing down the stairs and out the door.

"That was easy..." Charlie muttered to himself with a small smile. _Let's hope tomorrow is even easier._

* * *

 _*_ — references in a chapter

 _When Charlie refers to our unintroduced female Dawnette into being the spokesperson for the Zulu nation, it's a joke made by him because of her personality toward humanity. She has a zulu-nation philosophy_ — _Zulu philosophy "Ubuntu", that directly translates to "humanness", or "human kindness." This philosophy promotes the showing of love, mercy and kindness regardless of a person's background, colour of skin, and origin._

* * *

 **Hi, welcome to the preface/prologue. I had conflicts about posting this but the journey of this story has been nagging my mind forever and I even went as far as to writing out a 26 chapter plan with details and everything else. So as you can see, I'm super excited for this story.**

 **I hope this was some good** — **it gets better, I promise. Please give it a chance.**

 **If this is any good and worth starting, a full A/N will explain most things and the story will officially begin. So please favorite, follow, or review and let me know!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **You all know what to do!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	2. Lineus Spacehead

**Disclaimers: I do not own Twilight.**

 **A/N: Thank you so much to the people who favorite, followed and those who reviewed. I was so damn happy. Like, jumping out of my seat. It all means a lot and I couldn't wait to bring out this update. I found myself laughing as I wrote it and smiling at some of the references and things mentioned. More will be explained at the bottom, so see you there!**

 **Before I formally end my author's note and start the story, I just want to warn everyone that this story is not for the faint of heart. Racial slurs will be used, there will be violence, and some things may be hard to digest when the plot really starts and begins to thicken. So if you're the type that doesn't like to read things like that, I wouldn't go any further. It's rated M for a reason, will include so much satirical humor, extreme romance, black humor, terms, modern day references and just a lot thrown into a pot and mixed together. Anyways, for those of you who still want to read my story, I give a big thank you. To the people who loved the preface/prologue, welcome back. Let the journey begin...**

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Chapter 1: Lineus Spacehead

 **Dawnette's POV**

 _Yesterday_ was Monday. And I was already 99% done with the week.

 _Today_ was Tuesday, and I was 99% feeling alive and electrified. The other 1% was just being a nagging bitch because I found myself back in the _wettest_ ―no pun intended―place on mother Earth.

Forks, Washington.

Part of where I spent most of my childhood with my clumsy, white cousin Isabella and my awkward uncle Charlie Swan.

Dawnette Long is the name and the people at this Seattle airport had to think I was clinically insane. Because it's not every day where you find a tall brown-skinned girl wearing a tie-dye black and white, camisole dress and leather go-go boots shivering her black ass off with enough baggage of what people naturally would presume to be clothes―which they _were_ ―to dress a whole community in Africa.

And why was I shivering?

It was cold as hell.

Being that I was away from Forks for many years, and was used to the hot, make-me-wanna'- _shout_ -throw-my-hands-up-and- _shout_ climate in the small town of Cordele, Georgia... silly me didn't know it was _**this**_ cold up here in Washington.

And I was waiting for my uncle to ride up in whatever piece of car he claimed these days to pick me up and whisk me away to Forks, Washington international home to small town folk, many _lush_ trees (not the good kind, if you caught my drift) and **so** much rain and clouds.

I shivered like a motor-boat and sighed a big gush of air, dark brown eyes staring at the many people walking by and many cabs picking up patrons and driving them away.

Uncle Charlie had best get here in less than ten minutes or would end up taking home and thawing out a little Dawnsicle.

Momentarily freezing to death wasn't on my agenda; I was here because, daddy- _o_ Walden, my momma's husband and uncle Charlie's brother had won the lotto―a Cordele, Georgia quick-pick he got at the gas station wanting to just try his luck... and what'd you know? It _was_ luck because he cashed out for a couple million. While I did appreciate luxury and was an occasional mooch off the dough, it honestly wasn't for me... plus, it was getting stuffy back in that old rag-town of a town. Too much drama because everybody was always in everybody's business and I felt myself wanting a clean break from that kind of thing―okay, _maybe_ _**I**_ was in half of the drama, but only because of the standard _wannabes_ and _jigaboos_ * in that town and at my shitty, racially biased high school.

Momma' thought I should get away for a while... you know, lay low until the flow showed.

So she called up her brother-in-law, _Charlie_ and asked the grand favor of allowing me to visit for an extended amount of time, to which uncle _C_ was nice enough and _"happier than a bee drinkin' sweet honey"_ , as momma' said it, because my cousin-by-marriage, _Bella_ , had just arrived herself about three weeks ago and was there to stay.

I guess you could say God, **or** fate **or** whoever the gratitude was owed to had it all worked out for me.

Soon the heavy flow of the airport toned down and it was barely filled with people coming for their flights and others leaving from theirs.

Walden _**did**_ say Charlie was one to be late; my flight here was over an hour ago and he had a headstart since yesterday to bring that ass here to pick me up. Uncle C knew the plan; it was made sure that he could remember it because I made him _specifically_ repeat it to me on the phone seven times because seven is for heaven and by the fifth time, it should have already been etched in his mind.

He was to tell me my flight time: 10:30 a.m

And what time I got here after taking two planes, one from _Atlanta_ , Georgia and the other from _Toronto_ , Canada which would land here in _Seattle_ , late afternoon.

As it was now, 4:55 p.m going on 5:00.

Now imagine the look on uncle Charlie's face when he would finally pull up and saw his niece frozen to death. My short, pixie cut of black curls not moving an inch in the blowing wind, arms crossed pointedly over her small chest, long brown legs still in place and her full, dark pink lips formed into a permanent scowl. And did I also mention that my poor nipples belonging to my itty-bitty-titties were perked and showing through this dress? Blame myself for not wearing a bra (I just liked to go bare up there sometimes... you know, hippie-mode) and blame that man for coming so late―

"Young lady," a gruff voice exclaimed from behind me. "You're under arrest." I was going to kill uncle Charlie because now he had the cops on me.

"A-And wh-what would b-be the ch-charges?" The words tumbled out because my teeth were chattering.

The officer's footsteps on the tiled floors in the airport echoed in my ears as he rounded to the front of me and held his arms out wide. "Insubordination."

Before I could look at his ugly shoes and scream _what are those?!_ and then snap my neck forward, place a hand on my hip and chime in a sassy tone, " _Insubordination_?!"

The dude wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug. "For not giving your uncle a hug or a _hello_ , squirt."

My eye snapped up and met the familiar chocolate brown colored eyes and severe crow's feet. The fluffy mustache I enjoyed raking my fingers through as a little girl, as creepy as that sounds and the cheesy smile belonging to none other than my uncle Charlie.

"Uncle Charlie?!" I beamed, smiling my pearly whites at the Caucasian man. He nodded once, letting myself out of the hug to scratch the side of his clean shaved face with a sheepish chuckle trilling from the back of his throat. "An hour late, I know―"

"It's cold in here!" I cut him off, running to what I assumed to be his car―God my body was feeling so numb and I was freezing! ! !

I opened the door, climbing in the backseat. I perched over the middle compartment of the police cruiser―seriously, uncle C? You couldn't have picked me up in something different? Makes it look like a typical situation of a black person being arrested... in my case, to the people outside, it looked like I was eager―and fidget with the control panels of the dashboard.

"Where the hell is the heater in this doombuggie?!" I shriek to the brunette sitting in the passenger seat with a confused look engraved in the features of her pale, peach-toned face.

She took her headphones out, leaning forward with eyes on my face. "... Dawnette?"

"Cousin Bella!" I momentarily stop my episode of frantic panic to wrap my arms around the familiar, gangly cousin of mine. She hugged me back, but not before reaching to turn the knob that put the heater on.

"How is everything?" She inquired in that quiet, octave tone. I look over my cousin. She _thankfully_ outgrew those pigtails... a girl knew she was tired of having to fight the indian nigglet named Paul back in _La Push_ for pulling on them and teasing her; she had her brunette waves down her back, those chocolate brown eyes still innocent and slightly wary. That was the Isabella I grew up with, and no doubt was still the same one I hugged right now. Cousin Bella was still skinny―she needed to eat more meat―and dressed casual all the same. But I could sense the maturity in her which was a good thing.

"Everything's cool, _B_. You know, hanging in there, loving my complexion." I chime back, kissing both of her cheeks. She blushed slightly,―her old habit that never changed―and kissed my cheeks as well.

"That's good to hear," Bella sighed, her thin lips curving into a small smile. "Y-You can borrow my sweater if you're that cold..." she trailed off, slipping the zipper down and handing the navy-blue clothing to me.

"Girl, you just saved my life," I say, shoving the jacket on.

"Well, I figure I owe you after all those times you helped me when we were little." Bella smirked.

I rubbed my hands together, leaning back into the cushions of the cruiser's backseat. Finally, the thing was cranking out some warm air, gingerly unfreezing me in the process.

By then, Uncle Charlie had all of my suitcases and duffles loaded up in the trunk and climbed in the front seat, fully cranking up the vehicle. He turned to face Bella and me with that signature cheesy smile plastered on his face.

"You know that's the _first_ thing you said when you met me, Dawnette?"

I raise an eyebrow at the middle aged man, snuggling into Bella's sweater... it was strangely oversized―well not on the borderline of big where it slumped off my shoulders, but it was too big for Bella's skinny self. And was... _cold_. Like ice. Or maybe it was just me.

" _Where's the heater in this boombuggie_?" I repeat, incredulity laced in my light, soprano tone. Because that was the first thing I said to the man―his _car_ instead of a proper greet.

Charlie shook his head, maneuvering the cruiser into a turn to get us out of the lot at the airport. He winced like he was shivered and chirped in a tone I guess was supposed to sound like me, "... _it's cold in here!_ "

Bella snickered and I snorted, shaking my head at my uncle. He had his jokes.

Charlie sported a broad grin, nodding to himself at the slight win he must have felt he won with us.

"So how's that brother of mine?" He questioned, driving the cruiser on the highway. We had a long drive ahead of us―a lot of hours to Port Angeles and then some more back to my new home, Forks.

"Enjoying the man's lotto." It was true. Walden Swan and Bunchies Swan were enjoying themselves.

Uncle Charlie scoffed at my response, shaking his head while telling Bella, "My brother can't even count to ten, Bells."

"Ain't it some shit that he won the lotto?" I retort after that, shaking my head as well.

Bella raised an eyebrow, turning from the passenger seat to face me and then gave a glance to her father. "I thought you would be happy for your own brother winning the lotto, Dad. He'd send you money if you needed it... And you too, Dawn. He's sort of like your father."

"And I love that silly goose for keeping momma' happy and taking up the position as my dad," I didn't know who my actual father was, but we had the last name _Long_. And when my mother married into the Swan family she took their last name but I kept my unknown father's, which wasn't a problem to my step-in dad, Walden. "but let's face facts Bella."

"What facts?" She questioned.

"He doesn't spend it right." I laugh, shrugging my shoulders.

"You would know." Uncle Charlie's gruff chuckle joined mine.

I nod. "Hell, yeah I know. And you know what I'd do with the first mil'?" I leaned forward, hoping after all of these years, they'd remember what my first goal would be as soon as I came across a million dollars.

 **"Donate to Africa."** Both Bella and my uncle sighed at the same damn time.

"Because-" I trailed off wanting them to finish up my statement made from when I was ten.

 **"We're** _ **all**_ **from Africa."** They finished, once again said in unison together.

" _Waka_ -waka- _aye_ -aye!" I sing, bobbing my head to that _Shakira_ song playing out in my head.

.

. .

.

"Damn, uncle Charlie..." I found myself blurting out as soon as the front door was open and we stepped inside of the Forks home. I rolled two of my suitcases inside, stopping midway to glance all around the house, which was exactly the same way it was since the beginning of time. Charlie hadn't changed not a thing.

From the old square oak table with the three unmatching chairs and that small kitchen, with it's dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. I remember hearing my momma' say how Bella's mom― _aunty Renée_ had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. There was still the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room with the row of many pictures.

First a wedding picture of Charlie and Bella's mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of them in the hospital after Bella was born, followed by the procession of her school pictures up to last year's. Now this was where _I_ came in.

Several photos of Bella and I either laughing or playing with each other. Some of me eating food, one that made me want to snicker and then burn it: an embarrassing photo of me glaring at the plate of peas in front of me.

I hated peas.

With a passion.

Then there was the African themed wedding held here in Forks, many years ago of my mom and Walden getting married. Mom sitting there wearing a vibrant red, green and yellow colored _kanga_ *, modernized with an open slit that revealed one of her long, thick legs, looking like _Erykah Badu_ and Walden Swan looking silly as hell with his tuxedo styled with a _dashiki_ * matching the colors of my mom's garments. Aunty Renée looking bored as hell because she and my mom never got along well enough and Bella, me and uncle C smiling big and wide for the wedding going on. And lastly, the only baby picture of me that I **never** seen before―must have been one of a kind because Bunchies Swan _**loved**_ taking pictures and she had hundreds of baby pictures of me, evenly distributed between both my black side of the family and white side.

Those were embarrassing yet sentimental to look at - and I could guess that Bella already tried to get uncle Charlie to take them down, so I wouldn't say anything about them, just as long as they made this dreary home feel... well, _home-y_.

"I hope that's a _damn son, where'd you find this one*. This place looks hot_ , Dawn." I heard the middle aged man chime from outside.

I gave Bella a look and she gave me the same one.

Uncle Charlie ushered the rest of my bags inside and set them by the staircase, hands haughty places on his hips. He looked between me and Bella with suspicion in this brown eyes. "... what are you two looking at each other like that for?" - "Some secret cousin communication?"

I laughed at that one, shaking my head. "Bells, girl... please tell this man for me."

I watched as Bella shut the door behind her and blushed slightly, letting a shrug play on her slim shoulders. "... Charlie, this place is exactly how it was since we both could remember."

"Yeah, you could've at least threw in some of those forty dollar IKEA lamps," I motioned to the old lamp resting by the ratty looking couch. "Ooh, and maybe a glass end table. Wood is _too_ much of a concept in this house, Uncle C. And... that comment about the _damn son, where'd you find this one_... yeah, don't say that... _**ever**_."

I grabbed two of my duffles, throwing the leather straps over my shoulders, watching as the man nodded to my critiques.

"Okay, girls... I admit the place isn't cool..."

"It's lame, Uncle Charlie."

"Lame, dad." Bella backed me up, and I held up my hand for her to high five, to which she did.

"But it's _classic_ , Dawn." He whined to me. And cleared his throat, turning to Bella. "And... home to you, Bella. Besides, you girls may not remember," he flopped down on the couch. "But this furniture was used to play _house_ by the _**both**_ of you and I got a _'best house of the year award'_ hanging up in the bathroom made out of macaroni shells by two **certain** teenage girls, one named  Isabella and the other named Dawnette."

"I was wondering what that was in there..." I heard my brunette cousin mumble.

"Alright, Uncle." I shrugged. "You win this round."

Uncle C jumped up and nodded appreciatively to himself before grabbing a hold on two of my suitcases, while Bella held the other one with two hands. We walked up the staircase, down the small hall into the bedroom opposite of the west side of the house―on the east and faced the side of the house with a view of lush evergreens and what looked like a neighbor's yard and house a lot of feet away.

The wooden door was opened and revealed a medium sized, bare room with white washed walls.

All that was placed inside was a single, twin bed, a mahogany long mirror placed in the corner of the bedroom, a small closet and two small dressers. The room had _**no**_ personality to it... but after I settled, shopped for warmer clothes and brought a couple of posters and redecorated a little... I'd be good.

"I know it's not much, Dawn." Uncle C sighed, setting my bags on the wooden floors. "But I wasn't sure how you liked your room... And you and Bells could always go shopping in Port Angeles with _her_ friends which could become _your_ friends and you know, hang out and then do something with the room―"

I kissed my rambling uncle's cheeks, placing hands on my curvy hips―I may not have had top, but I **did** have bottom―and chirped to him, "I love it, Uncle C. Of course, there could be some nice curtains to cover that large gaping window over there, but overall... it's good. I can do a lot with the room and still keep it all _home-y_ and you know... **me**."

The man touched his cheek with a small smile gracing his face and sighed what looked like in relief. "Well, I'm glad to hear, Dawnie." He pointed down the hall. "Bells room is on the west and mine is right in the middle... there is only one bathroom sadly, but I think we can all manage."

I nod, settling the duffles near the dressers and rolling the three suitcases near the closet. "Not so sure about that, but I'm down. Sharing's cool."

"Alrighty then, start unpacking and for dinner... we're going to La Push for a bonfire and fish fry. That sound good, Dawnie?"

Fish fry in _La Push_... like old times. I had already, began unpacking by taking out my vinyl record player and setting it in the corner near the mirror. The dressers wouldn't hold many of my clothes and the closet only had a few hanger so I'd just end up leaving some things in one of the suitcases. I'd be done in no time and we could head out and go see those Indian nigglets― especially that skinny Jacob and brute-head Paul. I was looking forward to this.

"Bee's knees, Uncle C." I chime to him, starting to unload my duffle of underwear and bras.

"Charlie... you must have forgot that I had a date with Edward tonight." Bella sighed, looking down at her _Converse_ sneakers.

"But, Bells... you said you'd have the day clear for when Dawnie came."

" _Day_ as in afternoon... **not** night." She argued.

"Alright, fine... if you want to go out with what's his face and miss the fish fry in La Push, go ahead." Her father muttered, shaking his head.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Bella sighed in content, nodding once. "See you later, Dawn?"

I nod to her with a smile. She stalked out of the room and that left me and my uncle.

"Edward's her new boyfriend." Charlie murmured, I guess to me. I didn't really care but was a little giddy that my awkward cousin finally managed to get some guy―Lord knows she and Jacob were both too shy to ever admit they liked each other back then. And I thought she'd always just prefer to be alone, I mean I was no queen bee at dating myself. But still. Either way, I was happy for my cousin. "You want to go to the fish fry, right?"

I paused folding my a couple of my t-shirts, nodding eagerly to him. "Of course, Uncle Charlie."

"After all," I started, watching as he playfully rolled his eyes and waved his hand on for me to continue the phrase I used each time we'd go to La Push, back in the day.

"Fish and bread keep the poor man fed."

* * *

Theme song of chapter: (each chapter will have one)

 **Lineus Spacehead** by: _Wavves_

* * *

*―references

 _Kanga_ (or _**khanga**_ ) ― a wrap-around, colorful garment worn by women and some men in areas of Africa.

 _Dashiki_ ― is a colorful men's garment widely worn in West Africa that covers the top half of the body. It has formal and informal versions and varies from simple draped clothing to fully tailored suits. A common form is a loose-fitting pullover garment, with an ornate V-shaped collar, and tailored and embroidered neck and sleeve lines.

 _Jigaboo_ ― a racial slur used in the U.S for African American people to refer to stereotypical features (e.g. dark skin, wide nose and big lips) Think of Spike Lee's _School Daze_

 _Damn son, where'd you find this one_ ― a tag used by _Trap-a-Holics_ mixtapes. They host a LOT of artists mixtapes, including Waka Flocka Flame, Gucci Mane, Juicy J, Future, etc.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Congrats on getting through the first** _ **official**_ **chapter and the introduction of Dawnette.**

 **She's inspired by one of my favorite actress, Nia Long and many characters from either different anime, tv shows or movies when it comes to her personality, even myself. I hope everyone likes her so far, or at least has her in their interests. We learned a little bit about her, and will continue to learn more each chapter as the story progresses.**

 **As you guessed it, the next chapter isn't an introduction to her meeting our honey blonde yet; she's going to La Push with Charlie to rekindle with her old pals, Jake and the others, including Paul so be ready for some indian/Lahote/Uley/Black/Quiluete goodness, lol.**

 **How was this chapter though? I hope it was some good, because I seriously enjoyed writing it and I can't wait for the next. Like I said, I have a 26 chapter plan for this story already and it won't be the usual Jasper/OC you've read or seen** ―I hope.

 **Anyways, feedback is appreciated and I'd love to know what everyone is thinking so far.**

 **As mentioned before, this story will include so many topics and things essential to the plot and characters, so be wary of things mentioned. Take notes if you can :)**

 **Check out the chapter song, as well.**

 **The next update will be out soon, so do stay tooned.**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**

 **P.S: For those who read my other stories and are thinking, "how are you gonna start another story and you haven't even finished the ones you have?", you're right. But I just needed to get this out, and I promise I'll finish the others soon** ―working on new chapters currently.


	3. 1991

**Disclaimers: I do not own Twilight.**

 **I am grateful for the mannnnyyyy favorites, follows and the review. Thank you all so much, you guys are great and I hope you like this chapter. I worked hard on it, and it's kind of long, so do enjoy. And be wary for some of the language. No offense to anyone.**

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Chapter 2: 1991

 **Dawnette's POV**

Going down to _La Push_ for a bonfire meant fish-fry. Fish-fry meant bomb ass food. Bomb ass food meant eating it on First Beach. And with being on First Beach meant me looking good as hell wearing the new _itsy-bitsy_ , _teenie-weenie_ , _black non-polka dot bikini_ I brought along for the occasion. And me in that bikini showing off what my momma' gave me, meant no sass or side-bars from the _Lahote_ -nigga, Paul.

I gave a twirl while looking in the large mirror in my new bedroom. This bikini was looking pretty good on me. Sure, I did have a little baby fat on my stomach and my itty-bitties barely filled the cups of the top (size- _C_ my ass... I still felt like a _B_ ) but my hips _are_ wide and the ass _is_ fat... plus, black is _so_ my color. So, despite all of that... I was really going to strut this bikini. Even if I'd be strutting it for nobody in particular. And with being in Georgia all the time, there was no beaches or type of water unless you counted chlorinated pools and tiny lakes/swimming holes.

I was excited to be finally seeing a beach again after all these years.

"I look good, don't I, cousin Bella?" I gesture to the simple black bikini adorning my brown-skinned body.

Bella did that usual habit of biting her bottom lip and gave me a nod, complimented with a tiny smile. But those thin, pink lips curved upwards, soon turned upside down into a frown.

"No offense, Dawnette but—"

"Yeah, I'm gonna' have to stop you right there, Bells." I held up a hand, placing the other on my hip. "Uncle C said I had five minutes to get ready and you said I look good so... I'm ready." I smile sheepishly when she sighs and shrugs her shoulders, walking out of the room.

"Oh, did you want to maybe stick around to meet _him_?" She poked her head back in the room.

I slipped into my cremé colored, open-knit cardigan and matching colored flip-flops. Add one of my duffles filled with sunscreen, two towels, a pair of cotton shorts, my circle-framed shades and magazines to flip through—and I was ready.

But back to Bella's _him_ -situation.

The nigga named _Edward_... eh.

I think I'd need a bit more preparation.

Wasn't quite ready to see scrawny old Bella with a new beau—let alone one named "Edward". The name _so_ called for the brotha' being old-fashioned. Yeah, I loved my _oldies_ but _contemporary_ was nice, too.

"Is he white?" I quirk up an eyebrow while she blushes. What? I had to know these things... and I asked to see if she'd remember _the promise_... so don't judge just yet.

"Dawn!" Bella exclaimed, covering her face with both hands. I rolled my eyes and pulled my cousin in the room, making sure to close the door behind me.

We sat on my bed and I set my duffle near my feet.

"Okay, girl _spill_. Because _somebody_ forgot the promise of letting her virginity be lost to a nice piece of chocolate that'd get approved by _me_." Hands went on my hips and my expression narrowed at the blushing brunette about to chew off and swallow her plump, bottom lip. Pretty sure _Eddie_ needed that lip if he took cuzzo's v-card.

Bella shook her head at my statement however, letting out a huff, "We were like... _eight_ when we made that promise, Dawn!"

And what was the promise?

Oh, nothing a little _too_ serious... because me and Bells and the rest of the fam' and our good _La Push_ friends—Paul's ass, included—were on the _Zulu_ -love. And I pray to God, that they was still on the **one-love-one-nation-color-don't-matter** philosophy I used to preach back in the day. But when we were young and Bella and me used to visit Uncle Charlie for the summer or any given holiday, we made each other a promise:

Preserve our virginity, because it is our _essence_ —and lose it to the one we truly love.

Simple right?

But there was a catch I added just to keep the whole _race-ain't-shit_ , _we're-all-the-same_ phase going on; Bella would find love in a black man, and I'd find love in a white man.

You know, defy the odds that society cast on us and go for the other ethnic group. And since her and Jacob never officially hit it off—I didn't add Indians or my tribal brethrens to that whole ordeal.

"So you broke it?!" I gasp, feeling giddy at the way her face turned deep red. I would be upset that it wasn't to someone African or like my shade of complexion, but I'd be happy for my cousin growing up and finding somebody... even if his name was _Edward_... nothing against him... I just didn't like his name.

"No!" Bella yelled as she shot up from the bed. "Did _you_?!"

"Of course not—little Dawnie is _**still**_ a virgin and besides... there was **no** nice piece of white-chocolate down in Cordele." I reassure my flustered cousin, whispering the last part, "And if there _was_... they didn't go for _niggers_ , you know." Hated that word and hated the racism. But that's the world we lived it. I plastered on a smile when Bells sat back down next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry about the white guys being racist towards you..." She sighed.

I snort, rolling my eyes, "Girl _please_ , you know they just mad because my people won't pick cotton for them anymore." Bella giggled and shook her head.

"I forgot how Malcolm X- _ie_ you were."

I wave her off. "You already know—now back to the discussion at hand because Uncle Charlie's waiting on me and is probably trying his **hardest** not to eavesdrop or bust through the door with his shotgun because he heard you scream _no_ like that..." - "This _Eddie_ guy—"

"Edward." Bella corrects me.

"Or _Eddie_ for short," I stick my tongue out at her, and she playfully swats my arm, "He's a _honky*_ ain't he?"

" _Yes_ —" I sigh when she confirms it, causing her to jump up, adding, "but you'd love him I swear!"

"What's his full name, _B_?" I snicker as I say, "I might've already loved him."

"Dawnette— _please_."

" _Fine_..." I cross my arms over my chest.

I watch as cousin Bella lets out a heavy sigh as if her well-being depended on it. She then started pacing around the room like she was in deep thought or this _Edward_ dude really had some big secret going for him. I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad if he did... I knew people with secrets, hell even my mom had em'. But _man_ , could this brunette get worked up over nothing. I watched her pace for a good two minutes before she finally paused and sighed almost breathlessly, "Edward Cullen—he's the most amazing guy I've ever met, Dawnette. He's kind— _generous_ , hot— _gorgeous_ , _beautiful_ , perfect hair, lips, beautiful eyes... chiseled face... _**oh**_ , Dawn!"

She sighed again and I held up a hand, "Bells... don't like... have an orgasm on my new bedroom floor, now."

She fanned herself, blushing red like a tomato. "I-Is that what this feeling is...? I... I wouldn't know." - "After all, I am still a virgin—I _did_ kind of break the promise because my first won't—it won't be to a black guy, Dawnette. Sorry, it's just Edward is—"

"The one?" I finish her sentence even thought it was a question for me.

Bella nodded her head over and over. But before any more could be said or I could cry murder on my cousin for breaking our pinky promise made when we were _nine_ —not eight—there was a light knock at the door.

It slowly opened to reveal Uncle C, casually dressed in a red flannel and worn jeans. His old fishing hat on his head and that same cheesy smile he's grinned since the _dawn_ of time—laughing to myself about that one—and a nice, high tech rod in his hands, which probably would be the thing that will catch all of the _delicious_ fish for the _delicious_ fry.

"Sorry to interrupt the bonding moment, girls... but Dawn are ya' ready?"

I hopped off the bed and slung my duffle over my shoulder, striking a very model-like pose. "If you stay ready, you ain't ever got to get ready, Uncle Charlie. Remember _that_ and you'll do good for the rest of your life." I gestured to the black bikini. "Too much skin, Unc'?"

His eyes raked over the open-knit cardigan and then the black bikini. As awkward as Uncle C was, he cleared his throat and scratched the nape of his neck. "Uh, Dawnie?"

" _Mhm_?" I purse my lips.

"No offense, but—"

"Yeah, I'm gonna' have to stop you right there, Uncle Charlie." I kiss cousin Bella's cheeks and wave him on, not giving that man a chance to finish. "We outta' get going now. That fish ain't gonna' catch it's self—and a sista' sh'ol is hungry." I gently nudged the keys to the cruiser out of his hand with a small smile and headed down stairs with my duffle in tog and keys swinging on my fingers. Out the door I went—that breeze was super cold and possibly froze my soul—into the cruiser, cranking it up and blasting up the heater.

 _ **Regular POV**_

"And here I was gonna' tell her that it'll be too cold to swim today..." Charlie trailed off giving an uneasy glance to his daughter.

Bella slightly shrugged, sighing, "I know... I tried to tell her, too... but you know how she is."

"Very true on that situation," he chuckled. "The boys'll show her."

Bella snickered, nodding once. "So I'll see you guys later?"

Charlie nodded heading down the stairs, fishing-rod and box of _bait & tackle_ in his hands. "Now, Bells—"

"I know, Charlie." The brunette reassured meeting him down the stairs and to the door. " _Don't forget to lock-up, bring an extra twenty for a cab just in case Edward can't take me home_ —which he _**will**_ —and _be back before ten._ " She recited her father's rules with a small smile as he nodded his head to each one.

"And—"

" _Pepper-spray_ , in case he gets a little too touchy for my liking." Bella cut him off, smugly smiling at the look of surprise on his clean-shaved face. _Pepper-spray wouldn't even do a thing if Edward got too touchy—which I wouldn't mind at all._ She thought to herself, biting her bottom lip as Charlie pulled her into an awkward half-hug and he left out the door to join Dawnette in the cruiser.

The brunette gave a small wave to the two as the vehicle pulled out of the driveway and started down the road.

In just a few minutes, that signature Volvo pulled in the available space and the bronze-haired vampire had Bella in his arms before she could even blink.

"H-Hi..." She breathed in a flustered tone, blushing slightly as he inhaled her intoxicating scent.

Edward pulled back from their embrace, his perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed into a knit. "You smell... _different_."

Bella frowned and sniffed her shoulder. "... maybe it's the new perfume?"

He shook his head at the response, retorting as she allowed him to come inside, "Strawberries and freesia is what you usually smell like, Bella." His velvet tone chimed. "But now, it's mixed with another scent. One I'm unfamiliar with—certainly not your father's."

"Then probably my cousin..."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Edward's lips curved into a crooked smile. "You said you're cousin was coming—when do I meet him or her?"

" _She_ ," Bella put emphasis on the word _she_ , "well... _**soon**_. You'll meet my cousin soon." Bella bit her bottom lip, adding with a small smile, "just a little warning though..."

Edward raised an eyebrow, his topaz colored eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And that would be?"

"She's... a little _revolutionary_." The brunette narrowed her eyes when a hearty chuckle trilled from the back of her new boyfriend's throat and his head knocked back. It's not like there was any other word to describe the skinny brown-skinned girl with the dark brown eyes, pixie-cut settled into black curls and an attitude as wild _yet_ eccentric as they came.

"Are you ready?" Edward said, playfully wrapping toned arms around her waist.

Blushing, the brunette nodded once. "Sure, let me just get my coat."

 **. . .**

 **. .**

 **.**

It's not like Dawnette Long had never been to the beaches around _La Push_ the many times during her summers with Charlie, so the mile-long crescent of First Beach was familiar to her. And as much as she had been there day in and day out as a child, hanging out almost every day there... it was _still_ breathtaking. When most think of the beach, they'd probably imagine sun and sand. But to her, a cool breeze and pebble shoreline made such a pristine scene—especially when she was wearing her open-knit cardigan over her bikini. The creamy hue matched puffs of clouds above, the water was dark gray, even in the setting sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the gray, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliff sides, reaching to uneven summits, and crowned with austere, soaring firs.

The beach had only a thin border of actual sand at the water's edge, after which it grew into millions of large, smooth stones that looked uniformly gray from a distance, but close up were every shade of the setting sky since the sun heavily reflected.

 _Oh, yeah. This is gonna' be good..._ Dawnette chimed in her head, a broad smile gracing her face.

And the boys—Jacob, Quil Jr., Jared and Embry... even Paul... well, it had been _years_. And the adrenaline and excitement fluttering throughout her chest and body had to be contagious, because even Charlie had a big grin, that bushy mustache combing from side-to-side on his fair-skinned face. As some of rock  & roll song played on the low-volumized radio of the cruiser, Charlie bobbed his head and hummed the song to himself.

It was going to be a good night.

A great way to kick off the first day staying in the small town of Forks for another year or so, up until she decided what to do for college.

Especially since her first day starting at the predominantly Caucasian high school, Forks High was tomorrow—population to a three-hundred and something number of students, hopefully not like the _wannabes_ or _jigaboos_ at her old school.

 _La Push_ was only a fifteen minute drive from Forks, so before Dawn could ask her uncle how long until they got there, the cruiser pulling up in front of a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn. Dawnette immediately unclipped her seatbelt, squealing as she jumped out the car automatically being met with a strong blowing breeze and cold, biting air.

Shivering a bit, she wrapped the cardigan around her hips and covered her torso area. "It's a bit chilly, uncle Charlie." The girl muttered, watching as her uncle simply smiled smugly and unloaded the truck grabbing his gear for fishing and extra supplies of food for the fish fry.

"What? No, Dawnie." He chirped, snickering to himself. "I think it's just the fact that you've been in such a hot climate like Georgia—the weather here is _fine_."

"If you say so Uncle C..." the brown-skinned girl trailed off, sighing heavily before shoving the straps of her duffle again on her shoulders. With her dark pink lips curved into an eager smile, Dawnette approached—more like skipped happily—the wooden door of the red home she was so familiar with. Rapping a light knock on the door, she was greeted seconds later by a familiar scowling face with fiery, brown eyes that sized her tall, skinny yet thick frame from top to bottom.

The door abruptly slammed in her face.

" _Paul_!" Dawnette shouted, banging a fist on the door—poor wood. "Boy, you know you need to quit! Open this goddamn door!"

"Skinny bitches with big mouths aren't allowed in this house." She heard that deep, husky voice say from the other side.

"And niggas named Paul should know that this skinny bitch with a big mouth don't got time for games—especially from the likes of you. Now open this damn—" her mouth shut when the door swung open.

"Dawnette!"

"Billy Black!" Dawnette stood at the threshold, bending down to his level respectfully and hugged him short but tight before kissing his cheeks. "How's it been down here without me?"

" _Peaceful_." He chirped, chuckling when she rolled her eyes.

"Nobody to preach to these young minds about complexion or zulu-love, huh, Billy?"

The russet-skinned man snickered, shaking his head. "The boys are out on the beach already setting up the bonfire for tonight. Could you do me a favor though and carry the pan of potato salad from the fridge to the cruiser for me?" Dawn nodded as he rolled himself out of the way and gestured for her to come in before joining his buddy Charlie outside. The two middle-aged men greeted each other with playful slaps on the back and corny jokes regarding each other.

A small smile graced the brown-skinned girl's face before she stood at the threshold of the _Black-_ household, letting her eyes rake over the small yet cozy home. Not much had changed except a couple of the furniture being moved around and a new television than the old box set they had that only got the news channels and small networks. Either way, the place still felt like a third home outside of Charlie's and her old one back in Cordele, Georgia.

After getting the pan of potato-salad, Dawnette placed it carefully in trunk of the cruiser and sat herself in the backseat, waiting for the two men to get a move on. And soon Billy, Charlie _and_ Paul were settled in the car and the short drive down to the beach began.

 **Dawnette's POV**

With Charlie and Billy chatting away and making bets about who'd catch the most catfish or tilapia for the night's fish fry, that left me in the backseat with the wannabe Indian- _hoodlum_ , Paul... who was bigger... not in size down there because boy had himself a big head that didn't make up for the tiny package—best believe if he wanted to try my life at all for the rest of the evening and night, I'd definitely crack on him about that; you know, ruin the reputation he _thought_ he gained since I left—but he was humongous. Like _ripped_ —biceps on biceps, triceps on triceps, not no damn six-pack, more like a fucking six-thousand-pack—steroids. Buddy had to be on steriods, because never in my life have I seen such a perfect body on a boy a year or two older than me. Either that, or gym was life to him. You know how some people live for basketball and say _ball is life_ —well for Paul, the gym had to be life.

Damn, with him looking good in those cut-off shorts, I had nothing to get on him about just like he had got on me when I first pulled up. Shit, even his haircut all short and neatly-trimmed into black spikes was on point.

And another thing... he was hot. Not physically—okay, I'd lying to the world of girls if I said Paul didn't _glo-up*_ after all these years, but when I say _hot_ , I mean like... his skin. His skin felt like it was on fire. Like he was burning up with a fever, but showed no signs of being sick or ill or something.

"Fuck you looking at, _African-booty-scratcher*_?"

I lean my elbow on the side of the door, and roll my eyes at him. A shrug plays on my shoulders before I simply say, cocking my head to the tanned boy, supposedly body-builder." _You_."

The look on Paul Lahote's face is priceless. I guess he expected me to pull something slick to say from my ass. But why waste the thought and my mind? I _was_ looking at him.

"Really?" The incredulity laced in his tone made me want to laugh.

I nod once, shrugging again. " _Yeah_."

There was a stagnant silence between me and Paul which was very unusual. Back in the day when Bella and I spent our days hanging out and boppin' around in _La Push_ , it was a routine that Paul and I'd find any and every single thing to argue about. Now with us peacefully silent, no hostility or cracks or slick remarks... I don't know. I listened to Uncle C and Billy go on about them and their fishing.

That is, until the cockiness and rude attitude Paul Lahote was born with got the better of him.

"Hell yeah, you're looking at me. Sexy as hell aren't I?" The tanned, buff-body was checking himself out in the rearview mirror, smirking smugly to himself and flexing those muscles.

I sit up in my seat and chime in a sing-song tone, "Yeah, you're sexy now—a _**major**_ improvement from the sunburnt, skinny nigga with a dick the size of my thumb that always, _always_ bullied my white-cousin and pulled on her pigtails for no _damn_ good reason—or maybe it was because he had social issues and had no idea how to talk to a girl, let alone act civil and polite, which is something he still ain't learn. What it been _Paulie_?" He was glaring at me and his tone lip curled back like he was about to snarl like a wolf or hyena or something. And yeah, he hated being called _Paulie_. "Tweleve years of schooling on the reservation and you still don't know the meaning of etiquette and the act of kindness?" He was shaking now. Shaking hard enough to rock the cruiser in place, earn a raised eyebrow from Charlie and a stern look from Billy. But like the sassy woman I am, I egged him on, "Somebody needs to hit up kindergarten again—sittin' there looking like you belong in a _It's Rainin' Men_ music video with them damn cut-off shorts."

By now we were to the beach, so I jumped out the car once we stopped, sticking my tongue playfully at the seething Lahote-nigglet and flashed my middle finger before Uncle Charlie and Billy could see—I know, sensible enough to cuss in front of my elders but not let them see the bird? ... I'm a weird gal.

"Dawnette, if you think I'm gonna' let you—"

I cut that boy off before he could finish growling at me— he was literally growling out his words, "carry the potato-salad, I got another thing coming!" I shoved the pan of food in his hand with a laugh, "the food for the table is _that_ way, Paulie." I pointed in the direction, to which he had no choice but to go because the food had to be set up and my dawgs Embry and Quil Jr. had come to bum rush me to the beach sand.

"Dawn!" Embryo shouted in my ears. He was still skinny but now had a head full of beautiful brown locks that cascaded in waves down to his slim shoulders. He hugged me tight before Quil Ateara, now chubby and still short decided it was cool to body slam me back to the sand, locking the three of us in a big hug.

"You're back!" He exclaimed, as I squirmed to get out of his hold.

"Y'all already know!" I kiss both of their cheeks, as they both rose from the sand and extended out hands to help me to my feet. I took them and dusted the sand off of my thighs and lower back once I was standing up.

"Dawn, you got tall!" Embry noted, as he and Quil both began circling around me. "And totally got a butt now..." he whispered that lasted part to himself making me want to uppercut his bean-pole lookin' ass but I decided not to—after my introduction back I'd never get this much attention, so might as well basked in it, even if it was from my boys, that I felt **no** ounce of romantic feels towards—all platonic people.

Besides, I almost forgot what pervs these little boys were, anyways.

I arch my back, with a smirk as the two of them took a step back, eyes widened like they just laid their eyes on gold. I was giddy now.

"That's all the collard greens and corn-bread momma' Bunchies makes." I chime.

"Nice, nice..." Quil nodded his head like he was a judge or something. "But you cut your hair—it's almost like mine now!" He motioned to his shirt cut hair of waves or as I liked to call em' baby-curls.

I turn around to face the two, with a thumbs up. "Had to go for something new, you know?"

"Something new..." Embry said like he was testing the words on his tongue.

I nod as Quil says the same thing, stuffing hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Yep." I sheepishly grin. "Now if you boys will excuse me, until Jakey-poo decides to show himself or anyone wants a newly thought out lecture on _complexion_ and _race_ , I'll be down by the water taking a quick dip—"

"No offense, Dawn... but—"

I was exasperated by now. How much offenses could a sista' get on her first day back? "Yeah, Quil... I'm gonna' have to stop you right there, bye." I wave and set up my towel and gear, kicking off my flip-flops and slipping out of my cardigan.

"Don't say we didn't warn you!" I heard Embry _call_ out—laughing _again_ about that one—but I wave them off again. What was up with these dudes wanting to keep me from my other home away from home? The beach water was just singing out to me.

I take a deep breath, giving a little stretch before eagerly running down to the water and splashing head on into the warm, rushing—wait, hold the fuck up.

"Uncle Ch-Charlie!" I stood, slowly freezing into a Dawnsicle for the second time in one damn day. This was was freezing. And when I say freezing, I mean cold. And when I say cold, I mean this could have been Antarctica waters for all I knew! I shiver like a motorboat, seeking out my _jiving_ uncle who told me the water was fine.

"Paul!" Charlie chuckled to himself. "Please, go help my niece out before she loses her toes standing there narrowed eyes at me, _still_ in the water."

I watched squinting my eyes as far as they'd go as everybody on the beach was laughing at me frozen in this water—my soul just died a little.

Paul scooped me up in his arms, his booming laughter in my ear. "Payback's a bitch ain't it, Dawnette?"

I couldn't even move the muscles of my mouth to stick my tongue out at him.

Great, not only was I cold as hell now... I also had wet my curls that I primped and styled like I was going to prom or something. They were dripping, limp. I could also smell the expensive olive oil and Shea butter hair products, too.

"Well, we tried to warn you," Uncle Charlie chuckled, high-fiving Billy who high-fived Harry.

"Don't talk to me," I pouted, strangely dry and warm now. Had to be Paul's fever, but the chagrin was real, so I grabbed my spare towel and wrapped it around myself like a cape and plopped myself on my beach towel.

"Come on, Dawn!" Jared teased, nudging me with his elbow. "Sure you managed to embarrass yourself in front of everyone on your first day back—but give me a squeeze! It's been forever!"

"Wake me up from my grave of embarrassment when the fish is caught and it's time to eat," I sighed. Not even giving Jared a hug—he was huge, hot as in fever-like, just like Paul.

But soon enough, my moping made everybody stop from bothering me or teasing me, so everyone got busy doing various tasks such as dancing on the beach with the boombox radio one of them brought, helping Sue and Leah—I'd talk to my old friend, even though we were never really friends once I got done wallowing to myself—with the food or just hanging around talking, drinking and you know, enjoying the evening.

I was flipping through the pages to my latest dig of _Ebony_ magazine, admiring the layout design of the issue and soaking up the celebrity gossip, when somebody poked me on the back. I slipped my shades off of my nose and onto my now dry and frizzy afro of unruly curl that I had my work cut out on taming tonight for school tomorrow, eying the boy before me.

He looked fourteen, maybe fifteen, and had long, glossy black hair pulled back with a rubber band at the nape of his neck. His skin was beautiful, silky and russet-colored; his eyes were dark, set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones. He still had just a hint of childish roundness left around his chin. Altogether, a very pretty face. Hot damn, it was Jacob. My boy Jacob! Again, everyone seemed to be having a _glo-up*._ Now it was too bad Bella had her new boo _Edward_ or she could have gotten with Jake, here.

But of course, just like Paul had done, Jacob did the same, my positive opinion of his looks now damaged by the first words that came out of his mouth.

"So... have you heard from Bella?"

I shove his shoulder and narrow my eyes, hands automatically finding their way on my curvy hips, " _Damn_ , Jacob not-so-Black."

"What?"

Ugh, he was so annoying right now. Gonna' _what?_ me like he didn't just do anything wrong!

"A sista' ain't see your ass in **years** and this is how you greet _**me**_? Asking for my cousin who I _know_ you saw since she's been here for about three weeks now—the same cousin you was too pussy to tell that you was crushing _**mad**_ **hard** on all those years ago?! And not even spare so much as a _hello_? Or a _how do you do_? Or a _hey Dawn, how's it goin'_? _How's the complexion_? _Love the hair_ —"

"Okay, okay, sorry, Dawnie... no need to _go ham*_ on me!" Jake held his hands out in front of him, like he was surrendering, smiling those pearly white teeth at me.

"I _**so**_ needed to _go ham*_ on you, Jacob." I smack his hands away.

"It really wasn't required..."

"I think it was called for."

" _Nu_ -uh." He grunted.

" _Ya_ -huh," I shot back.

"Was _**not**_!"

"Was _**too**_!"

" _Really_?" His lips formed a thin, tight line.

"Seriously." I shrug.

"For real?"

I nod. "As _real_ as me being the fine ass, black girl I am."

We were now both laughing, before he questioned, gesturing to myself, " _Cocky_ much?"

"Confident, strong, independent, and a bad bitch—not cocky." I list all on one hand. Playfully shoving him this time. "Just all the things I listed, _Jakey-poo_."

"Did you have to bust out the _Jakey-poo_ ,— _Nailah_?" He groaned, looking around to see if any of his friends heard.

I was about to respond and make sure someone that wasn't Quil or Embry heard me call Jacob Black, _Jakey-poo_ just for the fact that he had to bring out the African middle-name.

 _Nailah_.

Not that I didn't appreciate it... it's just that _**every**_ female such as my mother, grandma, and the grandma before that and so on, had that middle name. I have no idea why, family tradition only set for the females, meaning I'd have to name my daughter if I ever had one, Something-Nailah-Something. It made me feel... not me. Like we were all the same person, which we obviously weren't—but still, I kind of disliked being called _Nailiah_. Also kind of gave me a weird vibe... I don't know. Maybe I was just being spooky.

"Hey, _dumber_ and _dumber-er_ —" Dumbass Paul called out to me and Jacob. Oh, yeah _**we**_ were dumb. Boy, you just said _dumber-er_ like it was actually a word! "You two gonna join the rest of us or stay over there like good little lesbians?"

"Good lesbians, Paul?" Jacob sneered, rolling his eyes. Him and Paul never really got along as kids. They weren't much friends either. Paul was way older than Jacob, to begin with.

"Yeah, _pip-squeak_! You know, paint each other's nails or something..."

Jacob was about to say something back because he was glaring, but like Paul was the bully before, he probably still was now. I intervened, sassing, "Seriously, nigga—somebody seeming a little dry right now because I know you can do better than that! But it's _okay_!" I wave him off. "It's okay, Paul. Like I said before, _kindergarten_. It's waiting for you. _**Again**_."

The boys around him burst out laughing, causing him to shake violently in his little anger fits I just discovered today that he had—chill pill, please. "Hey, _fuck you_!"

"No thanks, Lahote-nigga." Paul got the hand from me. "I don't go for assholes with little _wee-wees_ such as yourself."

" _Heh_ , she said _wee-wee_..." Embry snorted to himself.

That got our boy here riled up even more, "I'll shove this _wee-wee_ up your ass, Embry! Try me one more time—"

"Paul, are you going to cause a ruckus _**every**_ single bonfire?" Harry Clearwater interrupted him, narrowing those slightly bushy eyebrows of his.

"... no, sir." Paul murmured.

A frail hand beckoned everybody on the beach near the freshly brewed bonfire, casting shadows on the many figures now that it was nighttime. I sat on my legs next to Jake and Embry, exchanging greets with the old folk and people I didn't speak to due to my little episode of chagrin with the water.

"Young Dawnette!" Old Quil quirked, his frail self rising from the lawn-chair he sat in. I stood as well, saluting him. What can I say? He was a wise one and was one of the old folk around here that I didn't consider crazy with their stories of magic and whatnot. He did tell them, I remember but they were more like tall-tales and I forgot every single detail to each one. It was years ago.

"How you doing brother _Mandela*_?" I smile sweetly.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Still up to your antics I see."

"Already know, elders. But seriously, it is great to be back." I chime, giving a wave to the _La Push_ people.

"It's great to have you back!" Sue chimed, grasping her husband's hand. He gave it a tight squeeze and nodded his head to the statement.

As usual though, at every fish fry in _La Push_ , there was that one person who was hungry and just couldn't wait. I'd expect it to be Paul... but this time it was a shocker. _Sam Uley_. Huge just like Paul and Jared, body decked out with muscles and tendons and whatever else the perfect hunk body had.

So we skipped formalities and story-time (the elders were going to tell another one of their tall-tales) and Sue ushered up everybody, forming a line with kids and females going first to grab their plate of food.

Charlie and Billy had just come back from frying all of the fish, anyways so the dinner was set. Fried catfish or tilapia, french-fries, baked beans, potato salad, baked macaroni, cornbread and so many other foods I loved that'd make me plump and fat if I went back for _thirds_ or _fourths_. _Seconds_ was mandatory for me.

After getting my plate and eating while watching the stars, I caught up with some of the old folks, just letting them know how I was doing or my ma' and how happy Charlie's brother was making her. Then joked around with Jacob, Embry and Quil some more, of course, egging on Paul to which him and Jared tossed my ass back in the ocean water, freezing me to death once more before Sam was kind enough to thaw me out. Remind me to ask him why him not Leah are together and why he's so damn hot—physically (platonic feelings, remember this) and fever-like. Same for Jared and Paul.

So it was going toward midnight, I spent the rest of my time dancing to music with some of the girls and guys, you know... just having fun. It felt like that last week of summer you tried to make the best out of and turn up before having to go back for another year of school. _Man_ , I was going to be so tired in the morning. Uncle Charlie had already drove back with Billy and crashed on the couch there.

"It's been a pleasue to have you back Dawn." Billy sighed, his gruff tone filled with sleepiness. He let out a big yawn, and I returned one as well, sighing, "Glad to be back, Billy."

The bonfire party was over, so I got Sam to drive me and Jacob back to the house to get Charlie and have us be on our way. "Well you're welcome any time. Charlie bugging you, _come on down._ Wanna try your hands at fishing, _come on down_. Feel like hanging out with Jake and I for a day or two, _come on down,"_

"Wanna have a taste of that delicious fried tilapia, I'm gonna—" I abruptly paused and gestured for him to finish my sentence, we both laughed as we said,

" _Come on down_."

I stood from the couch, stretching my tired bones, yawning, "Alright _Billy_ , _Jake_ , others," I motioned to Sam, Jared and one of the elders on the other couch, "I do have my first day tomorrow so I'm gonna have to scrap my unc' off the couch and _hey-yo-hi-oh-hi-oh*_ my ass on out of here."

Billy and the elder laughed that that comment, and helped me get Charlie up and fully awake to drive us back home. We gave them a goodbye, I gave more hugs and cheek-kisses and we were on our way.

"You enjoyed your first bonfire back, Dawnie?" Uncle Charlie asked, while yawning at the same time.

I leaned on the door, yawning myself, feeling awfully sleepy. "Yeah, it was fun. I missed everybody and even though you did think it was okay to prank me on the whole water thing... I had a great time and I like it here already."

Charlie chuckled, before letting out a sigh. "Well, I couldn't resist—but I'm happy you enjoyed yourself, Dawnie. Hopefully you like school just as much as you like La Push,"

I groaned loudly at the idea of going back to another school, starting over and meeting new people. But Charlie's pouts made me stop. "Come on, it'll be good for ya'."

"Sure, whatever you say unc'." I mutter, closing my eyes to catch a few _z's_ in the car. _Whatever you say._

* * *

Theme song of chapter

 _ **1991**_ _By: Azealia Banks_

 _(Feels like a party song to me, so I chose that one for the theme of this chapter)_

* * *

*—References

 _Honky_ — Noun. Slang word used to refer to those of Caucasian ancestry. Considered offensive by some, when and if I used this word, which this was probably the last time, I mean no offensive on any party. Refer to _Black Dynamite_ or _Honky-tonk_ or somewhere else for more info.

 _African Booty Scratcher_ — to this day, I am highly unaware what this means... but if you've been called this or heard this in your childhood just like I have... Omg, I salute you.

 _Glo-up_ — A twist of the phrase "grow up", referring to a person's incredible transformation. This is usually based on increase of style and self-confidence. Term used by the generation now.

 _Mandela_ — Just homage paid to Nelson Mandela, a hero of mine.

 _Go ham_ — 1. to go hard. 2. to get crunk. 3. to give 200% or more than 100%. 4. gain the attributes of a hard ass Mofo

 _Hey-oh-hi-oh-hi-oh_ — that stereotypical Indian call you hear people do.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Omg, you got through the second chapter with Dawnette!**

 **I sincerely apologize if you was like this is way too long to be reading. And love you if you was like I love long chapters. I may have gotten carried away with this chappie, but as I said, this is going to be a huge story, so be prepared for much things to happen, some canon and others non-canon to Twilight.**

 **I ask that you all please, please review and let me know what you're thinking about the story so far and if you loved the chapter. Liked it? Hated it? Needs work? Funny? Loved it? Let me know!**

 **As you can see... next chapter we meet our honey blond! And so much is in store!**

 **Stay tooned!**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	4. what's normal anyway?

**Disclaimers: I do not own Twilight.**

 **I'm just going to say that I cried writing this chapter, nearly had a heart attack and lost bits and pieces of my soul. It's outrageous. Thanks a bunches to my reviewers, favorites and follows** ― **I get so happy when I see them so please don't hold back.**

 **I have yet another slightly long chappie to share, loaded with soooo much stuff.**

 **Enjoy! ㇮5 ㇮5**

* * *

Chapter 3: what's normal anyway?

 **Dawnette's POV**

The tiny, circular clock on the wall next to Uncle C's macaroni-shell _House of The Year_ award said it was 5:55 a.m.

Forks High School didn't start til' 9:00 a.m.

And here I was staring at myself in the mirror, dark brown eyes looking through the reflective glass as if I could see through myself, look into a parallel world and jump through if it meant getting out of starting over at a new school.

"Uh, Dawnie?" That was the fifth knock from Uncle Charlie in the last ten minutes. "You okay in there? You've been in the bathroom ever since we got home... and I do have to get ready for a day on the force... need to brush my teeth... comb my hair... you know―"

"Sorry, Uncle C," I breathe out a heavy sigh and wipe the somberness from my face. "I... it's girl issues―this tampon doesn't want to work right." I say the only thing I can think of awkward enough to stump that man and make him leave me alone for another couple of minutes; which I _so_ desperately needed at the moment.

I know, I know... Dawnette Nailah Long is fierce― _strong_ , _confident_ , _independent_ and a _bad bitch_ is what I told to Jacob. It was true, _**yes**_. But you know, I think it's customary that everybody has those days and nights when they just are not feeling themselves. Like, their soul is just in chaos and they feel like the shit will continue to hit the fan and the universe is not aligned and they just feel... not normal. Or should I say... _scared_.

What was there to be scared of?

Nothing in particular. I could give a FLYING fuck if those people at that school the didn't like me. (who knew a fuck could fly? I know _ducks_ can for at least five minutes, but a fuck? I wouldn't have guessed it.)

Okay... that was a major bluff― _sort of._

I didn't care if I had haters or people didn't like me. God didn't create me so I could stress over the opinions of the people of our society and the haters... well they were made to smooth out my rough edges. But one of the main reasons I got away from _Cordele_ , Georgia was to leave the drama, racism and pure fuckery from those wannabes and jigaboos, so my point of feeling like this was... what if I encountered the same thing here? It was a fear that started nagging me the moment I got on that plane to come to _Forks_ , Washington.

"Uh..." Charlie mumbled, his gruff tone muffled through the door. Damn, I thought he'd at least give a girl some space after hearing that... guess he's encountered more awkward things. "I'm― _uh_ , I... sorry to hear that Dawnie―but you haven't gotten a wink of sleep other than the fifteen minutes in the cruiser... you'll need some rest if you want to be up and functioning well for your first day."

I look at myself in the mirror again.

Brown-skinned face was flushed and looking oily. Major bags and dark-circles under my eyes. Headscarf covering my wrapped, short curls. Lips slightly chapped... yeah, I looked like shit. _Sleep_ was what I needed.

"It's not my fault I have a heavy flow, Uncle Charlie..." I whine, regardless of the fact that he was absolutely right about me needing rest and not getting a wink of sleep.

As soon as we got back home, I raced up to the bathroom and locked myself in here. So as you guessed it, I had been locked in here for a good four hours, dozing in and out of consciousness, while worrying to myself about my first day―which was destined for disaster at this rate.

The knob on the door jiggled and it slowly cracked open―let me go die in a corner for forgetting to lock the mother-fucking door―and he peeped an eye through, opening the door wide when he didn't catch me in an disoriented position of struggling with a tampon (which I didn't wear, I was a P. A. D girl) and I have to say, I was glad for that and Uncle C looked relieved, too.

"Heavy flow?" He raised an eyebrow, letting himself in.

With a exaggerated sigh, I knock my head back, groaning, "Okay, you got me, unc'. I'm not even on my monthly-time and I sure as well wouldn't tell you―I may be outspoken at times but _that_ is nothing to share and _**way**_ too personal―but, I guess you could say little Dawnie has first day jitters..." I trailed off, taking up the habit that I didn't have and hoped I never developed of biting my bottom lip and chewing on it; no offense to my cousin Bella. I guess you could say it was cute on her.

"I thought that might be the case." Uncle C mumbled, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You mumble in your sleep, you know."

"I do?!" I gasped... imagine all the shit I said in those short fifteen minutes―my soul was officially decaying.

"You may just _actually_ be blood-related to me and Bells, Dawnie. Because that's a trait the two of us, including my brother and you have in common―but regarding being the new girl... I know you're nervous―"

" _Nervous_?!" I exclaim, grabbing ahold of his hand and placing it over my chest where my accelerating heart would lay, "Feel my chest, unc'. A sista' _know_ she about to die of a heart attack!" I guess it was another trait me and Bella and Uncle C and daddy- _o_ Walden got in common―getting worked up over nothing. I was about to start pacing around in the tiny bathroom just like Bella had did earlier on when she started panicking about her _Eddie_ , but Uncle Charlie's hand held my skinny body in place by having a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Dawnette, calm down, _please_." He coaxed, sighing quickly. "I was no _Danny Zuko*_ or _Edward Scissorhands*_ or _Kenan*_ or _Kel*_ ―"

By now the man was just going on naming popular movie or television characters from the 90's... "Uncle C, you're rambling on..." I murmur, watching as the flustered man blushed lightly before clearing his throat once.

"The point is... I was none of the cool people, Dawn, so I couldn't tell ya' that your first day would go off without a hitch―but I will say... it will be something. Forks may be a small town full of soft, ol' people... but we're friendly and I guarantee they're drama-free and no racism like Bunchies told me you went through back in Georgia."

I let out a huff of air. Blinking twice before shrugging. " _Danny Zuko_?"

My uncle laughs, "They weren't the cool kids in my day but I figure why not use the people you young folks think is cool, you know?"

I shake my head, disagreeing with that list: Danny Zuko was a _eh_. I'd love _Edward Scissorhands_ even if those scissors he had for hands would cut my ass up if he tried to grab it and as _Kenan_ and _Kel_... just because they were my complexion and prominent comedy stars from the _90's_ didn't mean I thought they were cool― _ **okay**_ , those two were funny as hell, I loved their sketch show but still. He should have listed people like _John Bender_ from _The Breakfast Club_ or _Ducky_ from _Pretty In Pink_... maybe _Tyra Banks_ or somebody like _Tommy Davidson._ He could have did better, but I wasn't going to hold him accountable for that; uncle Charlie made me feel so much more better about this first day.

"... thanks, Uncle Charlie." I say, pulling him into a warm hug. My uncle hugs me back, for once not as awkward as he is and gives a nod.

"No problem, Dawnie." A soft smile plasters on his fair-skinned face. "Now you should at least get a quick two-hour-nap in or something... or you could just wait til' tomorrow to start, that is if you feel like you want more time adjust and prepare yourself."

Sighing, I shake my head. As much as I wanted to snatch the bag of candy and run, I couldn't and I wasn't. Even though nobody was expecting me, I still felt like I was obligated to go for my first day, _today_.

"The bags under my eyes are gucci, Uncle C. I'll hang in there―and if I take those two-hour, I definitely _will_ go into hibernation mode. It's fine. I'll actually go make breakfast. How does that sound?"

"Good, Dawn. It sounds wonderful." He chimed.

I flashed unc' a thumbs up and kissed his cheeks, leaving him to get himself ready for the day and to make breakfast... and coffee― **lots** of coffee.

 **.**

 **. . .**

 **.**

Four cups of coffee, three creams and six sugars each, sure as hell _did_ do the trick for me. After Uncle C' and I enjoyed a good breakfast of fried eggs added with a dash of black-pepper, cheese grits and plain-bagels―made by _yours_ truly―he left for another day on the force, but not before helping to clean the dishes with me. That then left me with nothing to do but get ready for my first day of school.

And even though it was only going on 7:00 a.m, I needed all the time i can get―it takes me time to reach the level of content when it comes to dressing up to go out.

And one thing Bunchies Swan taught me, was to never settle the way she did; I'd get told stories of her back when she was my age. Instances where she was so keen on being cute, that she'd wear skirts during the winter time and matching sweaters. Froze her ass off and didn't even get the number of the guy she was looking cute for.

But in my case... I'd stay warm and look cute regardless.

It was cold out, there was no snow, but the weather was in the mid fifties, pushing to the mid sixties. Uncle C said it would warm up later on today, but I was taking no chances. I did only have clothes for summer, so I decided to make the best of it until I went shopping for warmer pieces.

Light blue, high waisted and baggy jeans with a ripped design. Throw on some tights underneath that matched your pastel colored crop top, thick wool socks and a pair of pastel-colored creepers. Add a créme colored, knee-length cardigan made of thick wool, just like the socks and you would be looking cute as hell and _still_ be warm for this weather. The color scheme was on point, being pastels and light, playful colors and the outfit was like... perfect.

I took a ten minute, hot shower just to get my bones jumping―afterwards, washing my face with a face-cream, and brushing the wrapped-curls so that they were loose. Fanning them out with my fingers and plugging in my hot-curlers just to give them an extra bounce, I finished up by applying a little bit of mascara to my eyelashes and a dab of light brown lip gloss.

Still had dark circles under my eyes, but as I said before: the bags under my eyes are gucci.

The clock said it was 7:45 a.m by the time I was ready, so I took the time to have another cup of coffee and then send a quick email to my momma' just to see how she was.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn't check her email until a week later or something, but it didn't matter. I wanted her to think that I had things together―which I sort of did.

So as I packed a big purse of essentials―chewing gum, money for lunch, transcript papers folded twice, two notebooks, a couple of pens, my circle-framed shades and another issue of _Ebony_ magazine just in case there was nothing to do in class, which I doubted―Bella was up by then and it was about 8:00 a.m.

She was ready before I could even let out a sigh and we were on our way to school.

Dragsville, man.

"The front office is right there, Dawn." Bella said, pointing a finger at a tiny module labeled _Front Office_.

Forks High School was a collection of matching buildings, built with maroon-colored bricks and was surrounded by trees and shrubs; boring. But what was I expecting, anyways? It's a small town. Small towns called for basic schools. And basic school usually called for basic people, but I hope it wasn't the case here.

I let out a heavy sigh, about to kick open the door to my cousin's monster but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

I turned around to meet Bella's chocolate brown, wary eyes. "Do you want me to go in with you? I-I could show you around, Dawn. We're cousins so we should stick together, you know?"

Here I was again, biting my bottom lip like it was a habit. I would lie and say I _wasn't_ nervous, but I _was_ and my palms felt sweaty and I clutched the leather straps to my purse even tighter in my hand than before. But again, what was there to be nervous about? This was an ordinary school with ordinary people and I'd have an ordinary life with no drama, racism or _jigaboos_ and **definitely** no _wannabes_.

" _B_ , it's okay." I plaster a small smile on my face. "Malcolm X- _ie_ , remember?"

Bella's slim shoulders straightened from her usual stiffened stance and she cracked a small smile. "How could I forget?" She playfully rolled her eyes. "So, you're sure you'll be fine?"

I nod once and give the brunette a _'thumbs up'_. "I got this, _B_. There's nothing to worry and you already know that I'm gonna' stay out of trouble."

Cousin Bella scoffed and opened the door to her truck, slinging her bookbag on her back. "I really want to believe that, Dawn."

I wave her off. "Girl, I'll be fine." - "Now why don't you let me go check myself in and you go to your little boo-thang, _Eddie_."

" _Edward_." Bella corrected, with another playful roll of her eyes. The brunette locked the doors of her rusted-orange truck and waved to me. "If you need anything... text me, okay?"

Another _'thumbs up'_ was given to cuzzo'. Because seriously, there was no need to worry.

 _Sure_ , I did think about skipping the first day. _Sure_ , I was a nervous wreck this morning. _Sure,_ the coffee might've worn off sooner than I expected and I was getting **seriously** droopy. And _sure_ , I am a bit anxious now about the classes I'll take and the people I'll meet...

But as I've said: the bags under my eyes are _indeed_ , gucci.

I _did_ look cute even if the weather was cold.

Insomnia _was_ my best friend.

And I just had a feeling that _something_ was going to change with me after today. Couldn't explain it, but I felt it. Besides feeling the nervousness.

I watched as Bella walked off through the nearly empty parking lot, to some double doors leading into some building. That left little _ol'_ me to getting myself checked in.

Which was a piece of cake.

The lady at the front desk was nice. Smiled a lot and was definitely in a good mood with that turquoise, Hawaiian-themed shirt on and her bright red cheeks.

Some lady who worked as a secretary for the little school of Forks High was feeling herself today... _ooh_.

Let me stop.

 _Ms. Cope_ was her name and she was nice enough to highlight easy ways to get to my first class―which had started over twenty minutes ago.

But back at my old school in Cordele, the _wannabe_ secretary only filed her nails and talked on the telephone, gossiping to her friend or whoever and chewing on a piece of gum. And the _jigaboo_ principal― _dean_ they called it here―had a soft spot for her, so of course... her ass was never fired or reprimanded.

 _Boy_ , was I glad that it was different here.

The first class was AP Literature― _ **snore**_. Don't get me wrong, reading is cool ( _read a book, read a book, read a motherfuckin' book*_ ) but I had already did the course at my old school. I guess the system was different here which would be a drag.

As I entered the classroom, taking the time to hang up my wool cardigan on the coat rack―extra brownie points to the school for having a miscellaneous thing like that―because it was really toasty inside, _any_ and _every_ different colored, pairs of eyes stared right at me; murmurs and hushed whispers beginning to rush throughout the classroom of maybe twenty, give or take a student or two.

I looked behind myself and to the sides and even under this dude's desk because I had no idea what the hell was to be murmured about or stared at for. Probably never seen _melanin_ before... with all the fair-skinned, slightly pale, slightly tanned and... **oddly** white as the moon skin tones decorating the shabby classroom, you'd assume they've never seen a color like my complexion.

"Ah, hello, _Miss_ ―" the teacher, a tall balding, scrawny little guy gestured a hand to me.

I mean I've been greeted better than that before but... "Dawnette Long's the name―but you can call me _Dawn_."

 _Mr. Bates_ , the nameplate on his cherry-wood desk read, nodded once. "Yes, yes. You must be the new student to transfer from, _uh_ ―"

Another damn hand gesture. Geez, he was horrible at making a new gal feel welcomed. He could've did his research. " _Cordele_. You know, another small town just like this one here. In Georgia."

My snarky comment earned a slight glare from my new teacher that I decided I wasn't going to like at all this year. "And if you're going to gesture to me to introduce myself before I sit down, let me go on ahead and do it―as I've _just_ said," I turn to face the crowd of students. They all did look basic. But who was I to judge? "the name's Dawnettebut call me _Dawn_ if you like. Not _D_ , not _DD_ and definitely not a derogatory nickname you consider to be endearing. Just _Dawn_. I moved here just yesterday to get away from some things back at home and are joining my cousin here at Forks. My likes? A lot of shi― _stuff_. Dislikes? Even more. But  mostly **racism**." I sniff, giving a meaningful look to each of the wary students staring right back at me.

When this huge, whiter than the moon, _fione*_ honky with his muscles on muscles, little dimples, dark brown mess of short hair and butterscotch colored eyes snickered, I focused my gaze on him. Did I say _fione*_? I meant, **beautiful**. Looked like he walked straight out of a fucking _Sports Illustrated_ magazine. When I looked at him, his amused smirk only widened into one of the most cocky smiles I've ever been graced with―even beat Paul's.

The look in his eyes spelled out _challenge_.

Challenge for what? Who fucking knows. But before I could go on, Mr. Bates held up a hand and walked from behind his desk, to the front of the classroom where I stood with a hand on my hip, and all my weight leaned on one leg.

"I think that's quite enough, Miss. _D_ ―" no this man didn't. As if hell could be formed into scowl, that's exactly what he got. His attention turned from my glare and he cleared his throat, motioning to the bulky, bear man. "Mr. Cullen, since you seem to find our new student _oh, so_ amusing, I'd like you to brief her on what we've been going over so far―your seat will be next to Emmett."

He pointed to the _Sports Illustrated_ dude with the cocky smile and I begrudgingly sat down next to him, crossing my arms.

Ten minutes of attending this school and I already discovered that there was slick teachers and my list would begin with _Mr. Bates_ being the first one added.

I watched as the balding teacher took his seat at his desk and picked up a newspaper, burying his face in a page. That left the class to work on whatever they were reading or studying, it looked like _Macbeth_ ―and left me with this guy. I turn to face him, his topaz, smoldering eyes looking right back at me.

"So, _Dawn_ ," he started his voice extra husky and slightly deep―rolled off into a melody... "your last name... is it because―"

I gave "Emmett" (old ass name) the hand. "No, I didn't get my damn last name because my daddy had a _schlong*_. Seriously... I heard it one too many times. Got any better icebreakers?" When my lips curved into a smug smirk at the disbelief spreading onto his face, that made him narrow his eyes and then smile broadly, showing off those little dimples.

"Alrighty, _Dawn_ ," why did he have to put emphasis on my name? "Turn your fucking book to page-77 in the textbook, it's something to work on." He gave a look to Mr. Bates' before folding his arms behind his head like a headrest.

I gave a nod, pulling out my iPod and put my headphones in my ears before picking up the medium-sized textbook from under the table we shared and flipped to the page.

 _ **How's about a friendly bet?**_

Those words were written in bold, neat handwriting all over the text of reading material on the page.

I raised an eyebrow, giving a side glance to "Emmett". His eyes bore that challenge look and a signature cocky smile plastered on his marbled face.

... better than sitting here doing nothing. It was very clear that Emmett was a slacker and that Mr. Bates had no problem _**not**_ informing me about the class. The teacher was too busy clipping coupons from his newspaper and aside from the occasional glances from the people in this classroom, everybody was caught up reading from textual information about _Macbeth_ ―I was right―or having their own conversations... some regarding talking to me and others about just pure nonsense like homework or whatever.

"You had this all planned out, didn't it?" I whisper, leaning back comfortably in my chair.

Honky and hunk snickered, shrugging those broad shoulders. "Maybe, maybe not, _Dawn_."

"What's the wager, _Emmett_." I shot back, definitely feeling up to a bet on the first day. Especially since I just met this guy and could already tell he was cocky as fuck. Just like I had done Paul, I think it was time to bring this bear down a notch.

"That song you're listening to―what's it called?"

I took out a headphone out my ear and my eyebrows furrowed. I had no idea how he could hear the song playing, even though I had my device on a low volume, not even loud enough for the person next to me to hear―maybe he just had good hearing.

" _Fuck the pain away_ by _Peaches_ ," I snicker at the look on his face. And don't judge either, it wasn't one of those sappy R&B songs about making love or whatever; it was a hilarious, catchy song about staying in school and the _teaches of peaches._.. the lyrics made no sense once so ever but it was just funny to listen to and catchy to sing.

"Heard it before?"

Emmett shook his head but opened his mouth, singing the lyrics perfectly,

" _Sucking on my titties like you wanted me,_

 _Calling me, all the time like Blondie_

 _Check out my chrissy behind_

 _It's fine all of the time,_

 _Like sex on the beaches..._

 _What else is in the teaches of peaches? Huhhh? Whattt?_ "

I burst out laughing, completely ignoring the fact that this guy just said he had never heard the song before and now was singing one of choruses like he listened to it everyday; it was weird and had me feeling awfully skeptical, but what the hey!―seeing a big hunk like Emmett sing this song was hilarious and such a sight to see.

"Play it out loud and make a scene―a hundred bucks if you're in." He smirked, his topaz-colored eyes gleaming with delight.

"You must be crazy―I'll get in trouble! And a hundred? Triple it." I cross my arms showing that I meant business. And while I did expect him to back down after me, setting my own terms―he didn't.

"You must got money to blow, then."

Buff-Daddy pulled his― _oh, shit!_ Baby busted out that Louis Vuiton―wallet out, opening the small flap to slip out crisp, hundred dollar bills.

I held out my hand but he held up his, "Nah, Dawn. You have to do it, _first_. And then collect _after_."

I let out a heavy sigh.

So, what was it going to be?

Give in to the social stigma, play a vulgar song out loud on my first day in a class full of people I didn't know, acting a fool―while making a new friend, might I add: A) he's super hot and not racist B) Buff-Daddy got a sense of humor C) he got money to blow

All so tempting... And momma' said not to give in to temptation.

But... fuck it.

I pulled my headphones out of the iPod-jack, switching seats with Buff-Daddy so that I was near the row of computers set up by the windows. Plugging my device into the computer, making sure Mr. Bates still had his head up his ass, clipping out those coupons, I turned on the speaker―first day here and I already know where everything is, _neat_ ―and took a big huff before restarting song.

I settled back in my seat, watching as everyone looked up from their books as the beat started out. Mr. Bates had the most confused look on his face as he slowly ducked his head up when the song became louder and the chorus started.

I immediately got up, dancing. Everyone looking at me like I was crazy.

Headbanging, clapping my hands, fist-pumping, twerking―you name it, my black ass did it. Even made Emmett fall out his seat laughing when I got on the table gyrating my hips and voguing with my hands.

Once the song ended and the beat faded down, I hopped off the table and took my seat.

Silence.

And then applause from this Asian boy. And slowly the rest of the class.

Emmett collected himself off of the floor, wiping his face like he was actually crying―he took his seat back next to me, holding out his hand.

"Give me five, _Dawn_ ―that was―"

" _Atrocious_!" Mr. Bates cut him off, his bushy, gray-colored eyebrows narrowed. "I have no idea what school you may have come from before, but _here_ , none of that, is acceptable!"

Mr. Bates paced to the front of the board, picking up a yard-stick ruler.

"I want you to know, Miss. _Dawnette Long_ ―" he pointed at me with the ruler. "At the end of this ruler... is an idiot!"

.

. .

.

It wasn't my goal to get detention on the first day.

And I didn't get it because of me dancing to _Fuck The Pain Away._

It was because when Mr. Bates pointed at me with the ruler, and said _"At the end of this ruler is an idiot,"_

I said, _"Which end?"_

So here I was, walking in a fucking line like I was in kindergarten to the cafeteria, with other delinquents belonging to this fuck ass high school. Not only did detention suck; it was boring.

I had no one to talk to but myself and with me being the _new girl that got detention on her first day_ ―everyone stared at me like I was a fucking hot commodity.

I huffed when I pushed open the double-doors to the large cafeteria, with me being the line leader and all.

As soon as I walked in, of course that chatter rose and eyes were on me.

Momma' said that as a child I loved all attention on me―now? I hated it.

What was even worse was that I couldn't find my cousin Bella anywhere. Just tables of many white faces, a couple blacks such as myself scattered around and one table where I could see Buff-Daddy sitting at in the far corner by the window, closest to the south-doors of the cafeteria.

And just like Buff-Daddy-Emmett was beautiful and stuff, so was his friends. He sat with two blondes. One girl who looked like she was made by _Mattel*_ and a boy.

Not just any boy. Somebody called for _dejá-vu*_?

Wavy honey-blonde hair, pale skin just like the blonde Barbie-bitch and Buff-Daddy, and dark, deep eyes that I was sure were peering into my soul. I furrowed my eyebrows, he furrowed his eyebrows. I licked my lips, he licked his gorgeous, pink sculpted lips. I scratch my head, he roamed his fingers through his hair. I glared, he glared even harder.

Well, the game of mental _Dawnette-Says_ was over once this girl nudged me to move the line to the food-service area. (Starting to wish I never was the line leader. I could be playing _Dawnette Says_ with a honey-blonde that looked like he wanted to sex me up and then strangle me.)

Okay that thought was farfetched. In my head, Emmett a.k.a Buff-Daddy's honey-blonde friend wanted to sex me up and then strangle me―but in reality, he just looked confused. And pained. And like he just had an epiphany. And as for me? I felt... I felt like I had seen him before. But we all get those feelings sometimes.

I had about enough money for a slice of pizza and a soda, so that's what I got.

It was such a bummer that students in detention had to eat in the classroom and not the cafeteria; otherwise I'd collect my three-hundred from _Sport Illustrated Guy_ and see what's shaking with _honey-blonde_.

 **...**

It was nearing the end of the day and my journey through the purgatory the people of this small school in this small town called "detention".

But I had to pee.

Some girl named Lauren who had corn-silk, blonde hair, slanted green eyes and a very annoying nasal-tone was taking too long to _"use the littler girl's room"_ as her ass said it.

It had been over twenty minutes and I believe written in red marker on the board clearly said:

 _ **Bathroom Breaks Only Ten Minutes.**_

So, what is with bitches thinking that they had power and deeds?

I huffed for what was the thousandth time before the teacher in charge of detention rolled her eyes and motioned to the door. "There's a bathroom right down the hall, Miss. Long. But if you're not back in ten, then I'll be seeing you again tomorrow."

I nod once, slipping into my wool cardigan and taking the bathroom pass Lauren failed to take when she whined about going and went.

I rushed down the hallway into the "little girl's room" as the bitch said and what do you know? Here she was... sitting on top of the linked granite sinks, chatting with a brunette. Their conversation stopped once I walked in.

Whatever.

Me using the facilities and not having to have detention tomorrow was more important than entertaining their little staring contest.

I opened the stall and tried to use the bathroom―nothing would budge.

 _Come on pee. I know_ _ **urine**_ _there!_ I changed in my head, snickering out loud when it worked.

Flushed, washed my hands, rolled eyes at the two girls and was outta' there.

And only took up two minutes of my set time―remind me to complain on why it was okay for corn-silk hair to be gone for over twenty, but me only getting ten―so I had eight minutes to blow or not even care about.

I had no friends yet, so... might as well go back to detention―

"Uh, excuse me, ma'am?" I stop my walk down the hall and turn around to see who that husky voice with a slight southern twang belonged to. My eyes widened when just a few feet away from me stood _honey-blonde_. Tall, lean and even more handsome in person. Wavy, honey-colored hair settling into curly ringlets, dark, smoldering onyx eyes staring deep into my brown ones as if he was assessing me. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Dawnette, would it?" He spoke, snapping me out of my mental trace of sexing him up with my eyes.

And just how did he seem to know? Like the small town this was, and small school this was, I'm pretty sure news spread fast around here. I place a hand on my hip, letting a shrug play out on my shoulders. "Sadly, it is. You ain't ever hear of no sista' named Dawn before now did you? And why call me ma'am? I'm not some old hooch you met many years ago―I'm a teenager, just like you."

 _Honey-blonde_ said nothing as a response but stared―his dark eyes held the ferocity of a prowling lion. And the cease in between his brows spoke and was calling out that he was in pain. Pain from what? I don't know... maybe I was just too cute in these pastel colors and baggy jeans.

"Now... why are you staring?" I questioned. Buddy was staring at me mad hard... And it was kind of getting creepy. "Never seen _melanin_ before?" I say, jokingly. His was so pale―and covered with... _**scars**_. Scars spaced most thickly together on his jaw and neck... a tiny one above his left eyebrow and a scratch near his top lip.

He opened his mouth, taking a long stride towards me. "... _Nailah_?"

No comment. "... that's my middle name... _Uh_?" I gesture to _honey-blonde,_ as I didn't even know his name.

" _Jasper_." Old name just like his friend, _Emmett_. "Jasper Whit― _Hale_. _Jasper Hale_." He was at my side in an instant, reaching for my hand. It was cold―cold like ice, but I didn't mind it because as his thumb rubbed absent-mindedly over my knuckles, I felt tingles beginning to form in the lower pit of my stomach. His callous hand fit perfectly holding mine and there was a slight buzz that sent my knees feeling like they wanted to buckle at just the slight touch.

 _Jasper_ ―the name gets even sexier when I say it―slowly extended my hand close to his twitching lips. I was about to snatch away when his eyes narrowed into slits and he took a deep breath as if he was savoring my scent or something, but the moment he placed his soft, stone lips against my knuckles and lightly kissed my hand, he could have smelled me all he wanted―I felt like dying.

"It's a pleasure to _finally_ ―it's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Jasper chirped, his southern tone brimming at the edge of his husky voice.

"W-Well, _Jasper Hale_ ―I got detention on my first day here for winning a bet with B-Buff-Daddy named Emmett..." he raised an eyebrow, but I went on, slowly taking my hand out of his, "so I should be getting back t-to class now."

Curse me for stuttering... I just felt even nervous than I was this morning! And why? I have no idea. It was never no problem talking to guys, let alone people at all. But all of a sudden, _honey-blonde_ had to come and mess up my vibe― **charming**. He was so damn **charming**.

And then I had to open my big ass mouth again, speaking what was on my mind, "You know, wouldn't want to be struck there another day when I could be oogling your fine ass―I mean sexing you up with my eyes! I mean, _fuck_!" I slapped my forehead, taking a step back. He clouded my mind. He messed up my demeanor. He made me _feel_ a type of way. Made me feel like I should be frank and genuine―not hold nothing back.

"Excuse my French, _Jas_ - _per_." I broke his name apart, loving the way how it flowed easily off my tongue. God, this was getting so weird! I opened my eyes just to see the corner of his lips turned upwards into a small smile.

But it soon faded once he closed the distance between us.

"Have we met before?"

That was a question I was asking the moment I saw him sitting next to Buff-Daddy. " _Have_ _we_?"

Jasper nods. "I believe so, ma'am."

Still on the ma'am bullshit I see.

"Again, with the ma'am..." I take a step back because I couldn't think straight with Jasper Hale, a complete-stranger-that-didn't-feel-like-stranger, so damn close to me. "it's really not necessary―"

I was cut off by the sound of high-heels clicking and clicking against the floor. Jasper and I both turned to see corn-silk bitch walking down the hall back to detention. She sniffed, her nasal tone so damn deafening, " _Somebody_ should be getting back to detention if she doesn't want another day."

"Somebody should _nen-nen-nen-nen-nen-ne_." I mock her words, rolling my eyes. Looks like she was another person added to my list.

Lauren scoffed and walked into the classroom like she was strutting.

So as I turned back to Jasper, I immediately felt my emotions worked up by that girl (THAT I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW AND SHE WAS TRYING TO FRONT ON ME, LIKE GIRL IF YOU DON'T GET YO'―) turn calm.

Jasper looked down at me with eyes I couldn't even describe.

"Uh, it was nice meeting you, Jasper." I wanted to melt at even having a chance to say his name. "But as corn-silk said... I should be getting back." I let out a heavy sigh.

"... me... me, too." He barely could get out, suddenly looking like he wanted to vomit.

... damn I hope my breath didn't stink...

"So, will I see you aga―" _honey-blonde_ ran down the hall before I could even get out my sentence.

... so much for "the pleasure of meeting me".

* * *

Ending Chapter Song:

what's normal anyways by: Miguel

* * *

*―references

 _Danny Zuko_ ― male main character portrayed by John Travolta in the 1978 film, _Grease_

 _Edward Scissorhands_ ― male main character portrayed by Johnny Depp from Tim Burton's film, _Edward Scissorhands_

 _Kenan and Kel_ ― an old show from the 90's on Nickelodeon which starring Kenan Thompson and Kel Michell. this show was about their crazy antics and escaping trouble that they usually caused.

 _Fione_ ― black slang way of saying "fine"

 _Mattel_ ― toy company that produces many toys, most notable being _Barbie_.

 _Read a book, read a book, read a motherfuckin' book_ ― a rap/animation banned from B.E.T; search up on YouTube. You may lose brain-cells or may gain some knowledge :)

 _Schlong_ ― (usually offensive) A penis which is a fairly good length. As opposed to a schlort, or a schledium.

 _Dejá-vu_ ― French for "already seen", used to describe the strange feeling you get when you're in a situation, and feel like you've been in the exact same situation before, but really haven't.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Wow. You got through another one. I'm happy and hopefully you're still liking this story or you like it even more now. This was fairly long and I have to say that most of them** _may_ **be.**

 **As you can see... Dawn has met Jasper. And she can see his scars... And they seem to know each other... ooh. Theories, anyone?**

 **But wow... I feel like I could have done better with their introduction, but ah, well. There is so much more to come. Next chapter calls for what I really want to get into with Jasper and Dawnette.**

 **It may be confusing to start but it'll all air out once more is explained.**

 **Please leave me a review and let me know what you all are thinking. Opinions and thoughts help :)**

 **I hope this was a good chapter and not too crazy.**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Stay to ones, next chapter is part of why this is rated-M!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	5. Sycamore Tree

**Disclaimers: I own nothing here but my story and imagination.**

 **It's a very late update, I know. But I'm back in school for one more year and having a lot of work or just being plain tired. Don't worry though, this definitely will not be abandoned and I'm still writing. My stories are my life. I'm just going to need some time to recuperate at moments like these. Anyways, I'd love to thank everyone for the reviews, the many favorites and lots of follows. I'm happy. It makes me happy and has my story filled in my mine every time I see the email alerts. Thank you and please, keep them coming. It means a lot.**

 **Please enjoy this chapter. I worked hard on it for the concept and I hope it's not too out there. It's shorter that the usual and gets into the main plot for this story. Keep an open mind, as well.**

 **Happy Reads!**

 **(Shoutout** _Teamstarkidding_ **to for being spot on with the theory. I wanted to cry with how you figured it out so quickly. But there's more to it, though, so please enjoy and thank you!)**

* * *

Chapter 4: Sycamore Tree

 **Regular POV**

"What were you thinking, Dawn?!"

What was she thinking?

"Detention on your first day?!" The chief yelled.

She was thinking of sleep.

"For calling Mr. Bates an idiot?!"

It was past midnight when Charlie came home from a hard day on the force. He dealt with petty town crimes such as _snatch & runs_ at the local corner store, someone harrassing old people for money and even a strange smell coming from under the sink in someone's bathroom. It was a tedious day―and to make matters worse, Forks High School blew up the station with phone calls regarding one of his girls in detention for insulting an instructor. While Charlie secretly hoped it was Bella and not Dawnette, he knew otherwise. Bella had her new boyfriend to keep her out of trouble―she **never** got in trouble, what the hell―and Dawn... had just _escaped_ trouble.

So it was no surprise that she'd be the one to get detention on the first day. With her fiery attitude and revolutionary aura, it was bound to happen. Not that he expected it, anyways.

And here it was, about to be two in the morning.

Charlie had woken Dawnette up and got her downstairs to have a talk with her... a talk that turned into her snoring half the way and him scolding her.

"When I said your first day wouldn't go off without a hitch, that didn't mean you could just open your arms up for trouble!"

The brown-skinned female's response was a short yawn―she was _hella_ tired and his yelling at her didn't help. Plus, Dawn liked to think of it as, trouble finding her rather than she looking for it.

"Did you just _yawn_ during my reprimanding, young lady?"

Dawn opened her crusty eyes―the sandman must have given the girl a double visit tonight―and yawned once more, holding up a finger when her Uncle C looked like he was about to explode. His face was red and he was pouting; she never knew he could hold so much authority―sure, he is the chief police of Forks, but _damn_... even though she was half asleep, it felt like she was getting her ass handed to her.

"What? You have an explanation? Because I'd really _love_ to know what you could come up with to save yourself from this one, Dawn!"

Dawnette simply nodded. She open her eyes wide and let out a heavy sigh, before speaking, her voice groggy with sleep, "Uncle C―in my defense... it's two o' clock in the morning. I was sleeping when you got home just about an hour ago and was woken up just to hear you yell at me for some bullsh― _stuff_ I didn't do."

Dawnette eyed her uncle, his red face slowly turning bright pink instead. She gave her Caucasian uncle a look to show that she was however, _serious_.

"... _Okay_..." Charlie trailed off, scratching the nape of his neck. "Maybe I was a _little_ rash..."

He got another look from his niece.

"Okay, I was _very_ rash, Dawnie. The most rash."

Nodding in agreement, Dawnette chimed, "Thank you."

Her Uncle held up a hand though, sputtering, "But in _my_ defense, I was being that way because I don't want to see you in trouble when you've just left trouble, Dawnie. This is supposed to be a **clean** start, remember?"

"Yes, Uncle Charlie. I know," she paused to yawn once more. It was a big one, too. "But in my defense, Mr. Bates basically implied that I was an idiot so I countered back by asking him _which end_ ―I didn't get in trouble for winning three hundred _smackeroos*_ from Buff Daddy, I got in trouble because Mr. Bates decided it was cool to do that when _**he**_ was the one who didn't even know my name, where I was from or any of that important stuff. Like, _come on_ , Uncle C! If _you_ were a teacher wouldn't _you_ take the time to get to know your students before they arrive to the class?! And he made me stand up in front of a bunch of basic looking people―let me stop, because I said I wouldn't judge them―but I had to stand there looking like a fool with all their eyes on me and―"

"Dawnie, it's okay." Charlie interjected, his hands on her slim shoulders.

She blinked twice. "What?"

"You... were rambling." He uneasily retorted. "All I got from that whole ramble was that the first day stressed you out... Mr. Bates is the one at fault... you won three hundred dollars from someone named _Buff Daddy_... and that you don't need me reprimanding you―you need a hug right now."

Dawnette hadn't even come to realize that she started rambling or that her uncle was telling her that it was okay and that he shouldn't have yelled at her―he said she needed a hug. As much as she wanted to question him on that, the brown-skinned girl only settled for raising her arched eyebrows at his response.

Charlie nodded. "Yep. Come on over here, kiddo." Her Uncle awkwardly hugged her, squeezing tight for a second or two before letting go. He flopped down on the couch beside her, giving his niece a glance. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"As long as you carry me back to bed." She giggled, leaning her head childishly on his shoulder while looking up at him, her brown eyes very doe-like.

The look on her uncle's face made her take back the statement, with a giggle and another yawn. " _Just kidding_. But, I'm tired... We finish this over breakfast?"

Charlie pat his niece on the head. "Sure thing, Dawnie. Good night and uh, sorry for... waking you up out of your sleep."

"It's okay, Uncle C... I was just sleep―didn't even have a dream, so it's all good." She said, leaving the middle aged man to get himself together as she headed back upstairs to her room.

As soon as she opened the door and closed it, Dawnette jumped at the sight of her cousin sitting on her bed.

"That sounded bad." Bella said, a slight shrug on her shoulders.

Dawn waved her cousin off, climbing into her small bed―the space her cousin didn't take up. She flipped over to face Bella, sassing, "Not as bad as you sneaking up on me in my own room, _B_."

The brunette blushed at the comment, before shrugging again, her bottom lip being tugged on by her teeth. "Sorry, it's just I couldn't sleep... felt like there was a _draft_ in my room..." She whispered, smiling to herself. "A very **nice** _draft_... that kept me up... and was near my bed... in it..."

Dawn raised an eyebrow at her cousin who seemed to be dazzled for the fact that it was cold in her room... maybe it was just always hot for her in there or something. Never had she seen a girl excited about the cold as much as Bella was.

" _Okay_...? It's cold in your room. I get it."

Bella quickly changed the subject. "So how was your first day?"

When Dawn rolled her eyes, her lips frowning, the brunette tilted her head to the side. She settled herself comfortably in the small bed, covering up with the comforter blanket. It was like old memories―little Bells and Dawnie curled up next to each other as best cousins, talking through the night and sharing secrets. Except instead of being small children, they were now teenagers on the brink of early adulthood. And both completely different. More different than they were as children.

"Touchy subject, I see." Bella murmured to her cousin.

Dawnette let a heavy sigh escape her lips before asking, "Where were you all day? I didn't see you during lunch or anything..."

"I was with―"

"Oh, yeah." The brown-skinned girl muttered. "I forgot you have a little _Eddie_."

"Him and his family would really like to meet you, Dawn..."

She scrunched her small, button nose up at that statement. Why would a boyfriend of her cousin's want to meet her? And his family, too? When it was only now her third day in this small town―if _that_ wasn't considered weird... "He's _your_ man, Bells."

"And you're _my_ cousin, Dawn." Bella countered, giving Dawnette a pout.

Dawnette let out a loud groan, before laying on her back, staring up at the wooden ceilings. "Do I _have_ to?"

"You'd end up meeting them either way... they all go to our school." Bella tried to be more comforting. She reached for her cousin's hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Oh." Dawn's eyes raked over the difference of their skin tone for a spilt second before she sighed, "Bells, it's pushing to two' thirty..."

In an instant the brunette was sitting up in the small bed. "Oh, sorry. So I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Dawn nodded. She watched as Bella gave her a small smile.

"Good night."

"Night, _B_." She smiled back, yawned before she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

And a night it was going to be.

* * *

 _1866, Georgia_

 _'_ I don't know why I write these letters knowin' that you'll never get them. I don't know why I come and sit under this here sycamore... the same sycamore we made love under before you left me again to go fight in the war... why didn't you just stay here with me? Why did you have to leave, Jasper Whitlock? _'_

* * *

 _Her dark brown eyes stared at the sheet of stationary perched in her lap. The words she wrote looked right back at her and in an instant, Nailah folded the piece of paper once, twice, thrice before huffing and tossing it with the others_ _―the many letters written to the man she loved by the name of Jasper. Some folded, others ripped and many clenched into little balls._

 _Nailah leaned back against the soft birch of the big, blooming sycamore tree. It was true. Ever since Jasper led a raid on massa' James, torched the plantation, rescued her , freed the other slaves, and brought her to this "safe" part of hot Georgia with the most biggest, beautiful sycamore she ever laid eyes on, she'd come sit here._

 _And write._

 _Write letters the honey blonde would never receive._

 _He'd never receive them because she didn't have a clue where she was or a clue where he was. Only that this land was hers, as he told her before leaving a second time, three years ago. And that he was off somewhere, probably in another state or province fighting for the Confederate Army_ _―which baffled her because the Confederate did not support abolishing slavery..._

 _Nailah, swallowed back bile, clutching her stomach as she thought back to the troubles she went through, over three years ago. Starting from when she was just fifteen and was taken from her home land to be sold as a slave and work on a plantation. From her cruel slavemaster and mistress to the overseer she found herself in love with... She had been through a lot. Way too much for the lifetime of a girl growing into a woman._

 _Nailah let a heavy sigh escape between her two plump yet thin lips, closing her eyes. For a moment, she basked in the sounds the Lord blessed her with. The sounds of birds chirping occasionally, the wind howling in the distance and the shimmer and rattle of the field of wheat and grass, the rustling green leaves of the sycamore tree._

 _A twig snapped behind her, causing the brown-skinned female to jolt up, frozen in place._

 _Her first instinct was to run_ _―_ _that was what the honey-blonde told her._

 _"Nailah, you hear anything and I mean anything out of the ordinary ' round these parts..._ _ **run**_ _. Run like it's the devil himself, chasing you. Run like you're trying to find me and don't look back. Don't try to see who or_ _ **what**_ _is chasing ya'. Just run. Remember you ask me that one day what kind of lovers is we? We're the kind that always has an escape plan. And when I'm not there... I need you to escape for me."_

 _She gulped, feeling a bead of sweat drip down the nape of her neck; Nailah closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in and a deep breath out. She wanted to run. She really did... but_ _ **something**_ _..._

 _ **Something**_ _held her in that very spot, perched under that tree._

 _And while she felt anxious... She also felt calm. And_ _safe_ _._

 _"Jasper?" She breathed out, taking the chance of it not being him. "That you?" The brown skinned woman's dark pink lips curved into a small smile at the sound of soft steps heard crunching over the fallen leaves, twigs and stalks of grass. She immediately stood from her spot, smoothing over the wrinkles on her simple gown, fluffing her head full of unruly, soft curls that draped towards her shoulders. From behind the tree stepped a honey-blonde with wavy, hair now cascading to his shoulders_ _―red eyes glowing at the chocolate woman just a few feet before him, that same crooked, small smile he used to smile at her years ago._

 _In an instant, she was crushed against his chest, embraced lovingly in his arms._

 _"It'll always be me, ma'am." Jasper Whitlock pressed his marbled, pink lips to her forehead, inhaling her intoxicating scent._

 _"Y-You're back! You're_ _―it's you, Jasper... it's really you." She breathed heavily, tears coating the brim of her brown eyes. Drop by drop, the tears fell down her freckled cheeks, onto his grey and gold uniform._

 _"Oh, Nailah..." Jasper let her go, his eyebrows knit in a furrow as he deeply inhaled like he was in pain. He wrapped tight arms back around her wide waist. "I've missed you so_ _―"_

 _"I thought you weren't coming back…" Nailah cut him off. She buried her face into his chest and he hugged tighter,_ _pulling her body impossibly closer. "Hold me." She sniffled, shaking her head in disbelief. He was really here. After three years. Her lips painfully curved into a smile. "Just like that... just like this."_

 _Pushing her back gently, he took her face in his callous, cold hands and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His hands were cold and made her shiver like the ointment he used that one time to spread over her lashes... and with the hot heat in the Georgia air, it cooled her skin. He was also gentle_ _―so gentle that_ _she felt herself leaning into his palms. Peeking up at him, her lips parted in soft gasp when she saw his red eyes. The last time, they were as brown as her skin. Now they were red like her former slavemaster, James._

 _And as she stared into his eyes, his every own gaze shifted to her lips and she could hear him hitch and pause breathing. Consciously, she leaned in closer, her eyes closing as she waited for him. He groaned softly then pressed his mouth to hers lightly, almost like he wasn't kissing her at all._

 _The feeling of his lips on hers were not foreign. She knew and craved the feeling. How his marbled yet soft lips curved into hers, his cool tongue brushing slowly over hers and the warmth spreading in places that sent her over the edge. She wanted more. She needed more._

 _But he pulled back and let out a shaky breath, resuming back to holding her tight, against his chest._

 _The two stayed embracing each other in silence. The only sounds heard were natural: the birds, the bees, the wind, the trees._

 _"I miss it." Jasper finally spoke, his southern drawl sinking into her ears._

 _Bravely, she kissed his cold, sparkling cheeks. "Miss what?"_

 _"The way you smell_ _―_ _not the smell of wash you bathe with or the cream you use to moisturize your skin_ _―your scent, Nailah. I mean the smell of your skin..." Jasper tilted his head down, his lips gently pressing against hers. As he softly kissed the brown-skinned female, he breathed deeply taking in her scent; a mixture of the white cotton she used to pick and an exotic smell he couldn't exactly identify... it hinted at her roots of coming from a far away land not in America. "it's the only thing that felt like... home..." he said against her mouth, pecking her lips, this time more fiercely._

 _He meant it, too._ _After leaving that_ _ **fiend**_ _of a slavemaster, before he was 17 to serve in the Confederate Army, he was turned into the very same thing as the_ _ **fiend**_ _when_ _he encountered Maria. A woman named Maria who smelled of spices. Spices that burned his nose. A smell that was comforting but not the same scent he loved and dreamed about. In the past few years after rescuing Nailah, freeing the niggers and leaving her once again, that's where he's been. With Maria._

 _And he'd never tell Nailah about that._

 _Maria wasn't his home._

 _Nailah was._

 _"Oh, Jasper_ _―" she cried, using_ _sheer courage and need, to fully kissing him. He seemed unprepared at first, the rush from the kiss causing a low growl to escape from the back of his throat. And her lips_ _―they_ _tingled as she opened them at the sensation, inviting him in, unaware of the danger of doing so._

 _But Jasper was careful. It was wild with Maria, straight up lust. But love with Nailah, straight up passion. As his teeth softly, gently nipped at her bottom lips, enjoying the swollen taste of the blood embedded in the thin skin and ultimately the feel of her fleshy lips against his, the tip of his tongue glided over before plunging in deep. She moaned, her fingers grazing over his matching gray hat with gold stars and trim plastered on the front as a sign of his loyalty. She tipped it off his head, pulling closer._

 _Jasper pushed her against the bark of the sycamore, grounding roughly in between her legs as she roamed fingers through texture of his hair; it was so different than hers. She easily could slide her fingers through and she scratch at his scalp._

 _The feelings he illicit to her was more intense than she ever felt before in her life. Too intense under the sycamore tree._

 _And by now, her lips were swollen from his constant nips and hard sucks. She was cooled by his icy skin and dazzled by the imminent glimmers. Nailah pulled away, her breathes huffing out heavily as she murmured, her finger tips ghosting over his lips, nose, and cheeks._ _"... your skin... it sparkles. Like one of those big gems Mistress used to have."_

 _She gazed deeply into his red eyes. "And your eyes... as red as... Massa' James'..." When another low growl threatened to escape his mouth, she quieted the honey blonde with a hush, continuing, "But there's a difference_ _―yours... are kinder. As red as the color of my blood but as sweet as this here sycamore tree―_ _ **love**_ _. You have love for me, Jasper. I can feel it."_

 _As her dainty hand lay over his chest and she felt no beat, her swollen lips curved downward into a frown._

 _"Don't worry about that, Nailah. It's there." Jasper coaxed, placing a hand over hers. His heart was indeed dead. But , it still beat for her. Whether or not if she could hear or feel it. His heart still beat for her._

 _"... I used to lay my head right there, Jasper." Her eyes trailed down to the hand over hers. "I used to listen to the soft thump and then listen to my own_ _―our hearts beat together. Does it still beat for me like mine aches for you?"_

 _"... if only you knew..." he whispered softly in her ears, using thumbs to wipe away the tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again._

 _"Take me with you..." Nailah began to beg. "Wherever it is that you're fighting... Take me_ _―"_

 _Jasper silenced her pleas with a fierce kiss._ _"Focus on me, ma'am. Nothing else but me, your major ." He gently lay the brown-skinned woman on the soft grass, hovering over her._

 _"..."_

* * *

 **Dawnette's POV**

Ever woken up with a longing ache in your chest? Or with tears coating your tired eyes? Or even a moist feeling in between your legs? ... I think we've all woken up like that before.

I slowly rose out of bed, gulping.

Last night... well―3 a.m- _ish_ to be exact―I dreamt about him. _Honey-blonde._

Jasper _Hale_.

Jasper _Whitlock_ in my dream.

A dream that felt so real―like I had been there before. Like I been through just exactly _that_. Like it all happened yesterday.

Me having the name that was my middle name... writing unsent love letters filled with longing and pain, remembering days picking cotton for a cruel, red or gold or black eyed slavemaster named James... And making love to a sparkling honey-blonde. Under a fucking sycamore tree.

The goofy smile on my lips suddenly plastered into a frown. I didn't even get to sex him up in my dream because I woke up before it could happen! Don't you just hate waking up from some of the best, weirdest dreams you probably won't ever have for another life time?

I groaned, throwing back my covers. This was going to be the same shit, but just on a different day. Nothing was going to happen except the stares and whispers... I had to just tell myself that _a dream was_ _just_ _a dream_... even when it involved a teen boy you just met a day ago who thought your breath stunk from the way he fled like hell when you breathed out a sigh.

I grabbed my things for a hot shower.

Because... the Lord knew that I needed one.

* * *

Ending Chapter Song:

Sycamore Tree by Kali Uchis

* * *

*―references

 _Smackeroo_ ― Slang for money. Usually in terms of a lot of an undefined some.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I've had many weird dreams, too weird. One I'll share is of this boy with long hair that I knew getting his hair cut and the next day he came to school with a hair cut. I've had even weirder and I hate when it's a great one and something wakes you up from it. Has that ever happened to any of y'all?**

 **But wow, you got through yet another one. I can say that this one wasn't crazy or all too humorous or jumpy like the last. This one called for a more mellow approach. A moment between Dawn and Charlie, Bella and Dawn and the first dream sequence of the story...**

 **Any thoughts or theories? I do hope you all liked it. My intentions was to put a lemon in that,but I decided against... we'll save it for later. But info was revealed through Dawn's dream. What did you pick up on? And as the story progresses, chapters will get more and more intense in terms of her "dreams".**

 **Was this chapter good? Like it? Loved it? Please review and let me know your thoughts. Stay tooned for the next. I'm thinking about a POV for Jasper.**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	6. Go Head

**Is it possible to be stressed out over the quality of a chapter you just wrote? Because if there is a possibility, I am. But I'm so sorry for the long wait; the story has been on my mind and my plan for this chapter has been read over and over and changes were made... but the words didn't flow! I hate when that happens and refuse to give readers a half-ass chapter... so this took time. And I can say that I don't really like this chapter. Hopefully you all do though :) this switches back and forth between Jasper and Dawn... so be prepared!**

 **Thanks so much for the reviews and favorites and alerts. You all are amazing and I am happy to see that you guys are loving this story!**

 **Please enjoy! Happy Reads!**

* * *

Chapter 5: Go Head

 _*A scattered dream is like a far off memory._

 _A far off memory is like a scattered dream._

 _I want to line the pieces up._

 _Of yours and mine...*_

Let me stop with all the sentimental stuff.

It was just a dream, Dawnie. Just a dream.

If I couldn't touch it... even if I could _feel_ it... then it wasn't real.

Momma' always told me that. She said _the tangible is what's real. The rest, even if you_ _ **think**_ _it's there... is what's fake._

I flipped the shower knob off, letting the last spray of warm water hit my face before cozying up in my towel and heading back to my bedroom to get dressed.

Today's outfit would be simple.

Long-sleeved, maxi black dress made of thick wool to keep me warm yet hug my curves. Matching socks and _Dr. Martins_ combat boots. Everything was **black**... just like my soul.

After repeating yesterday's routine of fanning out my curls, washing my face, brushing my teeth _once_ , _twice_ ―to ensure _honey-blonde_ didn't get slapped with the breath of stankness, should I encounter him again, which I opted not to―and then a spray of my favorite perfume, dab of brown lip-gloss and mascara... I grabbed my purse, heading down stairs to meet my cousin.

"Cousin-Bella?" I call out, slinging my bag on my shoulder. I peeked in the kitchen when I heard no response, sighing when there was a note taped to the fridge.

* * *

 _Hey, Dawn, it's Bella._

 _The keys to my truck is on the mantle in the living room._

 _I got a ride from Edward today, so I figured you can just drive yourself._

 _Text me if anything hap―_

* * *

I balled up the note not even bothering to read the rest, tossing it in the waste bin after. Not that I was mad at _B_ ―okay, I was _a little_ ―but anymore messing around then I may have been late for my second day, not that I was looking forward to it, anyways.

I grabbed her keys off the mantle in the living room, heading out the door. To _school_. Ugh, just narrating the damn word makes me shudder.

"Hey, new girl!" I heard someone call out. I kept walking down the crowded halls, ignoring _said_ someone.

I was tapped on the shoulder. Cue rolling of the eyes and kissing of the teeth. Another tap, as I continued walking. I reached in my bag, pulling out the little slip of paper I got yesterday after school. It had info on the locker I'd be using for the year.

"What's with the all black, today?" This guy―yeah, he was a guy―had a light voice and fast speech.

"Black is the color of my skin and soul." I mutter, walking past a group of jock looking guys. From the way he seemed _observant_ enough to notice the change of the colors of my outfit from yesterday to today, he had to be a _geek_. In this generation did geeks still feel intimadated by being within a five-inch radius of jocks? _Shit_ , I hoped they still did―namely _him_ , or whoever this guy is, who was following me like some puppy.

Another damn tap. With a sigh, I glance over to my left just to see some geek―he was _definitely_ a geek―of some type of Asian descent, tall like _6'1_ with greasy hair as black as an oil slick, and brown eyes, pacing to match my walk. He reaches in his messenger-designed bag and pulled out a notepad and pen. Did I mention that he had a poor complexion? It was that of a tortilla chip. "Can I get a statement on what went down yesterday in Bates' class?"

It only took me ten seconds to realize what he was asking for and that he was the same Asian kid that started clapping for me after I finished dancing to _Fuck The Pain Away_ for Buff Daddy.

"... aren't you in that class?" I ask and walk faster.

Where the hell was this damn locker?! What if I was dead and needed a defibrillator but the only available one was in this far, far away locker, so I had to go get it?! Wait, if I was dead... how could I even go revive myself? How could I even walk? I'd be just on the floor. Tongue drooping out my pretty mouth and X's over my eyes... the walking dead. Duh. But wait again! Zombies had no feelings, so how would I even know to get a defibrillator from my locker to revive myself and wouldn't I be rotting―

"Hey, new girl!" _Michael Chung_ ―I assumed his name to be, because _Chungs_ are so annoying and at my old school, I nicknamed the only Asian boy (who was fine as hell) _Michael Chung_ ―called out, bringing me back to reality. That little contemplation on life made me bump into like 5000 people and pass my locker.

"Is it true from key witness Lauren Mallory," his ass knew _corn-silk_ bitch? "that you snuck out of detention to meet with mysterious Jasper Hale and start an affair?" At the sudden rumor and calling of the name, _Jasper Hale_ I let out a loud groan, rolling my eyes once more.

Finally I had reached the damn locker and started playing with the combination lock to get it open.

"New girl!"

Boy, I tell ya'... some people just didn't know when to quit.

"New girl!" _Michael Chung_ yelled out like I couldn't hear or something... 'bout to take off my shoe!

"Do you think she's deaf?" That was when I turned around with an _are you fucking serious_ face and placed a hand on my hip. Right next to him was another geeky looking girl with dark brown hair matched with little streaks of a nice honey color and brown eyes hidden behind small, rhinestone glasses. Unlike her perky, little Asian friend... she looked reserved and was more calm. I give them both a look and lean all of my weight on one leg, the other hand finding it's way on my hip.

"Uh, Eric?" Oh, so _Michael Chung_ was an _Eric_?

"Yeah, Ange'?"

 _Ange'_ quietly retorts, "I think she just wants to be left alone..." yes, girl. You smart.

"But we promised to get the scoop, Angela. And I won't stop until I do!" Great, not only was Eric determined...

"Hey, new girl―" he was persistent.

I cut him off and cross my arms over my chest, sassing, "If I acknowledge what the hell it is that you want, will to please leave me alone?"

He gestured to the notepad and pen in his hands and the nice _Canon*_ camera in Angela's hand. " **Only** if you give me a full interview."

"Interview for?" I raise an eyebrow and purse my lips. So far all this interview seemed to be was latest gossip regarding my first day and then my encounter with **him** ― _honey-blonde_. Jasper _Hale_ here. Jasper _Whitlock_ , a major in the Confederate army in my dream... my **sweet** , _**sweet**_ dream... _damn_.

"The _Daily Forks Times_ , of course." Asian-boy-named-Eric smiled broadly and reached in his bag, producing a newspaper in his hands. "Check it!" He seemed proud of the finished product―the front page being... a feature on my cousin's arrival three weeks ago. And a small editorial by someone with the name _Jessica Stanley_ about how this _'Cullen'_ family suddenly seems "lively". An off guard picture of my cousin is the front page graphic and there is none for the two paragraph editorial by said _Stanley_ girl.

"Oh, goodie." I think I've quite had it. The "revolutionary side of me", as cousin _B_ liked to call it, was kicking. So I say the only thing my mouth would allow me to say―no filter once so fucking ever. "It's the Asian supremacist trying to _jive*_ a sista' with a statement for a mediocre, fuck ass _newspaper_ , from a fuck ass _school_."

And instead of walking away like any normal person would do... Eric turned to Angela exclaiming, "Did you get all that?!"

Why didn't he just video tape the whole damn thing...

With another I sigh, I pinch my temples and turn back to the locker at hand, ignoring this Asian imbecile.

I **seriously** needed my fix.

And what was my fix?

Gum.

I took one― _two_ pieces and shoved it in my mouth.

* * *

 **Jasper's POV**

If I wasn't asking Alice Cullen, my wife, "Why was it necessary for us to come one period late to school?" Then I was asking her:

"Who is she, Alice?" Which I had found myself asking for the fifth time this morning.

I had first unintentionally heard of this _new, funny as hell, outrageous, hot girl_ when Emmett described her yesterday at our meeting in the cafeteria. It was beyond me on why he had taken such an interest in a human girl. While I had learned my lesson above doing that many years ago―I felt like praying that he didn't end up like Edward with some infatuated attraction for this new girl, since he also did have Rosalie. And _said_ statuesque blond was seething at the table, threatening to rip off his lower members if he breathed―which had me snickering since he did not need to―a word about this _new, funny as hell, outrageous, hot girl_. It took a lot to simmer her down from a boiling pot to a low steaming one, but eventually she did because all of a sudden, our eyes were cast on _her_.

The _new, funny as hell, outrageous,_ _ **familiar**_ _,_ _beautiful_ _, humble,_ _ **African American**_ girl. I had never sprang such a curiosity in any human... It baffled me when Edward did to Isabella and I found myself constantly shaking my head at the two, while keeping my thoughts regarding the frivolousness of their relationship hidden well from him.

But if he felt _this_... then by all means... hell yeah.

She was beautiful.

Dipped in chocolate. Bronzed in elegance. Enameled with grace. Toasted with beauty. Sweet Lord... she was a black woman.

And not just any:

 _Nailah_. _**My**_ _Nailah_.

My Nailah with hair soft as wool. A spine strong enough to carry the weight of the world. Hips wide enough to birth an entire nation and a face as beautiful enough to calm any wild spirit.

"Jasper, I want you to stay calm." Alice, my pixie wife of many decades quietly retorted, grabbing a hold of my hand.

I furrowed my eyebrows into a knit and licked my lips, sighing, "But―"

She cut me off, her small lips curving into her signature coy smile, "It's okay. You won't do anything you'll regret."

I suppose I should say that I was relieved by her gift of foresight, which is very convenient to my family and I. But I had to make sure that the _something I won't regret_... was _**really**_ something I wouldn't regret. Not now. Not in a hour. Not later. Not tomorrow. Not in a month. Not in a year. In fact, not **ever**.

As we entered the maroon, brick building belonging to the school that fell victim to our latest façade of being natural born humans in their teenage years, I was automatically overwhelmed with the sweet, tantalizing smell of _**so**_ many delicious blood types... _**just one taste would do**_ ―but I wouldn't. And couldn't. Not without killing so many for the fact that they'd be witnesses... and the disappointment of slipping... I whisper to my wife, the pre-guilt already laced in my voice, "... so I won't―"

" _Yesterday_ , you would have." Alice muttered in a tone that only I could hear, before waving to a human girl named Bethany in her _Algebra II_ class―Bethany would have had appealing blood, except she smelled like smoke. I had given up smoking decades ago and from what I could feel from her, she was one of those troubled teens: _smoking, drinking, projected teenage pregnancy..._ that overall gist. And one of Alice's "save the humans from their paths of destruction" projects; a new, most recently developed hobby for her.

And I know I should have felt disappointed for the probability of almost killing a human girl with _conflicted_ feelings and such **strong** emotions that reminded me of my _Nailah_ from a century and many decades ago. But it wouldn't be a surprise. She smelled **so** _**divine**_. Like fresh _cotton_ , tangy _mangos_ , sweet _coconuts_ , pure _vanilla_ and **so** much more that was deemed indescribable to my powerful nose. The scent was all too good and all too familiar. And the way her brown eyes looked up at me when I first said her name... and the sound of her voice then the feel of her silk, chocolate skin... I would have drank and killed her without mercy or consent, had I stayed that close for any longer.

But the next thing Alice told me as we stopped near an empty hallway and row of lockers, did surprise me and knock my socks off. " _Today_... you'll  eat."

"Eat?" I questioned, running a hand through my wavy hair. What could she have meant by that?

"Alice, could you―" My sly girl had to see that I was going to question her on that lil' tidbit because before I could even finish, she interrupted me once more, holding out her dainty hands to cup my cheeks.

" _Jazz_ , I can't and won't elaborate. Just let things take their course for now... _besides_ ," she sighed with a shrug, bouncing on the balls of her tiny feet in those baby-pink designer flats, "I doubt telling you would even do any good. It's set and you won't change your mind."

Change my mind on eating?

Eating _what_?

Eating **who**?

"I've got to get going to class, now." She must have noticed me contemplating her words. My pixie kissed me quickly on the lips and proceeded to gracefully skip down the halls toward her second class. "And you'll need your textbook for 2nd period today. It's in my locker." Alice called out, before she disappeared from my sight as she turned on a corner.

"Which book?" I said, knowing she'd hear me.

But I got no whisper back and she was already gone.

I think I stood in that one spot for a good five minutes while the second bell rang and many feeble humans passed me by; some _wary_ and _cautious_ , some purely _terrified_ by my presence, many girls and a few guys― _ **no doubt about it**_ ― _turned on_ by being within just a few inches of me and one... particularly _pissed_ , _annoyed_ , _nervous_ , _apprehensive_ , _curious_ ―the list could go on.

And I knew who those emotions belonged to.

As if it were second nature, I turned around and gulped at the smell of the clashing scent coming closer and closer. And the very sight of her.

The sound of small feet hitting the tiled floors of the hallway. The gait of her walk. Twang in her steps. Swing of her hips. Easy and calm breaths. Pink lips glossed in light brown. Flutter of long and curly eyelashes. Figure completed in that tight dress. Complexion of her skin.

She was so close. So near.

With a heavy sigh, and roaming of fingers through my hair... I stammered out, "H-Hi―"

But...

* * *

 **Dawnette's POV**

My _walk past you like we never met_ game was too strong.

I almost felt bad. _Almost_.

But it couldn't be helped... I didn't need to acknowledge his sexy ass―I mean _pitiful_ "hi" when just yesterday my breath was so stank that his ass ran for the hills. And I also didn't need to suddenly blurt out everything I felt just from being within _honey-blonde's_ presence. Not to mention, **embarrass** myself with lingo on how I'd rather be oogling him with my eyes instead of being cooped up in detention. Nor did I need to think about last night's weird dream or have the gall to tell him about it even though I don't know him.

I could see it now:

 _"Hey, Jasper Hale. Remember me? The sista' who's middle name you seemed to know was Nailah and who had the breath stank enough that made you run like I was a vacuum salesman?"_

He'd look at me like I was crazy. Or like _oh, yeah... I remember that girl._ Or just gather me in his arms like he did in my dream and kiss me―nah, he wouldn't even look at me for one second... and would end up running just like yesterday.

 _"Yeah. Well, you see what had happened was... I had this crazy dream that I was a slave_ _―"_

BOY! DON'T YOU GIVE ME THAT LOOK. I KNOW MY PEOPLE WAS SLAVES. WANT TO KNOW WHY? BECAUSE YOUR GRANDDADDY'S DAD'S DAD'S DAD THOUGHT IT WAS COOL TO COME TAKE US FROM OUR LAND AND MAKE US PICK YOUR TOBACCO AND DIE FROM FUCK ASS DISEASES GETTIN' THAT RICE FROM THEM SWAMPS AND HAVE US DIE FROM THE HEAT PICKING THAT COTTON. ―that would be the sidebar I'd have to yell at some random white guy walking by in the hallway, having the nerve to even look at me like what I was saying was foreign on my lips.

 _"Excuse that little rant baby, but yeah... so I was a slave named Nailah... And you was a major in the Confederate army named Jasper Whitlock... And I was writing you love letters and you was stalking me from afar behind this big ass sycamore tree and the rest is history because it's a little too personal to share at the moment considering we are not behind closed doors, corn-silk bitch and her brunette friend keep looking our way and whispering bullshit to each other and oh yeah... you're currently glaring at me like you want to strangle my ass or bite me... or love me... or ki_ _ss me... or *freak me*..."_ but of course that last part would get whispered so low that he couldn't hear.

Then he'd suddenly smile.

* * *

And I'd either:

 _A) Faint_

 _B) Die_

 _C) Run_

 _D) Run and Trip_

 _E) Do all of the above at the same damn time_

* * *

Take your pick. I could list even more than that.

But was I glad to have finally got my ass into a seat in second period.

And glad that these classes went by fast.

And glad that it was finally lunch time and managed to get by with minimal stares and... still a lot of whispers. Including being followed around by some blonde who was not _honey-blonde_. I think his name was _Mike_. And if he wasn't talking to his jock or geek or snobby friends, he was glancing over at me, bragging about my cousin Bella or trailing behind me, thinking I didn't notice when I in fact did notice... had me almost turn around, take off my shoe and threaten him.

Back in Georgia... if a white guy at my old school followed behind you... he was going to do something drastic.

Ex:

Pour a bucket of water over your head.

Trip you in front of a crowd of people.

Follow you home and break into your house...

Invite his _other_ friends to throw a nice "party" in your backyard with you being the main _"guest"_.

And I know that you know it would get much more worst than that.

At that school in Cordele... we were ridiculed. No one even knew the definition of _Zulu-love*_.

So yeah, if this _Mike_ guy didn't stop following this sista' like a little puppy... he was about to get hit upside the head with this _Dr. Martin_ boot. And it was a heavy shoe. I also had this designer, leather purse. With buckles.

And fists.

And teeth.

And words. Hurtful words that could come out of my mouth and ruin his natural born life.

Gratefully, as I entered the cafeteria, he went to the left and I went to the right. He sat down at a table of who I assumed to be his friends and I went to go get some food. I was hungry.

* * *

 **Jasper's POV**

Even though Alice and I arrived to school later than usual, the day went by excruciatingly slow. I didn't enjoy the folly or pride I usually felt in _AP American History_ , or the feelings illicit from staring at _her_. Three classes we encountered each other in: _AP American History, Creative Writing/Poetry_ and _Yearbook_. Mind you, I had just been switched into the _Yearbook_ class today, along with my sister Rosalie and wife Alice. I had no idea if this was in fact, Alice's doings or if Carlisle or Esme had anything to do with this odd switch... because I did enjoy my workshop class but would also enjoy this "class" if it meant sitting right behind _her_.

The only downfall was Rosalie constant questioning on why I kept looking at her and... Alice doing nothing but smiling like she wasn't my wife and hadn't noticed or been bothered by her presence or my reaction to her presence at all.

It was a bit nerve-wracking.

But it was now late noon and lunch time had rolled around. Usually Alice and I keep up the façade of being humans by bring our own bagged lunch from home, and for the life of me, I want to just pull her to the side and ask why we didn't do that today. Why we were currently standing in the line for human food about to spend unnecessary money on morsels we would play with and pretend to touch and eat.

I had since then forgot about her vision of me "eating" but remembered it at the sight of a large, pepperoni pizza being shoved on my tray and the consistent murmur of many of them talking about Alice and I in the line.

I was glad I didn't have the ability to read minds like Edward did. But mortified at the emotions of anticipation from many wanting me to hurry up and take the first bite. Being an empath had it's selfish advantages. But the disadvantage was sadly, feeling the weight of what others felt. And at this rate... I was looking awfully forward to this human food and feeling an imaginary growl in my stomach. _**As if the lower pit of my stomach wanted to succumb to the proceeds of pizza. I know what I wanted and craved.**_

"So this is what you meant, huh?" I frown as Alice gives the cashier a five dollar bill to pay for our "lunch".

"Jazz... you do this for a reason." We make our way across the large cafeteria full of many fluttering heartbeats and stagnant stares. "A certain someone loves pepperoni pizza."

A certain someone?

"Who?" I dumbly question, already damn there knowing the answer.

I could smell her entering and feel the annoyance radiating from her inner core.

Nailah was always one to get annoyed back at the plantation. She'd hate picking over 500 pounds of cotton each day, then being woken along with all the others, by that _**fiend**_ in the middle of the night to entertain him and the mistress. They say the scorn of a woman is bad; try their annoyance on for size.

"Darlin', is there something you're not telling me?" I sigh, as we sit at our table, later joined by Rosalie and Emmett.

His eyes look like those that belong to one of those big ol' bugs once he sees that _she_ has entered the building. And it makes me almost growl at him for even looking so much as interested in her, but Rosalie beats me to it and smacks her husband upside to head. To which he mutters like always, "What the fuck― _ouch_ ―" because she punched his arm this time, "was that for, Rose? What did I do?"

Cue my "twin" rolling her golden eyes and looking at her reflection showing in the silver spoon resting on her tray, not even sparing her clueless husband another glance or an obvious answer to his question.

"Jazz," I look up from the tray of "food" set before me. Alice gently nudged me under the table with the pointed tip of her designer flats. "It won't be the worst thing you've ever tasted, you know." She flashes me a wink and a crooked grin graces my face.

If only I could figure out why exactly I was going to suddenly eat. To appease these simple-minded humans? To cure my fits of boredom in this dreary town? Because I can feel everyone expecting me to take a bite since I was _oh, so_ human? What could it be?

"If only you'd at least give me a hint as to why I have to partake in such _delicacies_ , darlin'." I muttered back. I grimace once again at the slice of greasy dough, gooey cheese and awful "pepperoni" this school and the people here call "food", wishing it was at least something I could imagine stomaching like a piece of fried chicken or dumplings or something.

With a sigh, I take up the slice, frowning at the feel of the warm food in my hands.

" _Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it_..." Emmett chants, his voice barely above a whisper.

I release an unnecessary exhale and give a glance to all the humans surrounding me. And my eyes land on the one placed in the same position as I am.

Elbows perched on the table, slice of gooey, pepperoni pizza in her dainty hands, mouth open, preparing to bite. Her eyes locked with mine as well. She sat at a round table alone, her leather purse beside her, thick thighs crossed over one another under the table, permanent scowl formed in the features of her face.

I hope I hadn't upset her with my constant staring... it's just that I kept wondering. I kept pondering if she was my Nailah or simply someone all too similar. And why, if I had my wife and mate Alice... then why was I so drawn to her?

She inched her pretty mouth forward, and I did the same. Her eyebrows furrowed. So I furrowed mine, too. She tapped a foot on the tiled floors of the cafeteria. I did the same, too. She glared. I glared even harder. She took a big bite... I took an even bigger one.

* * *

 **Dawnette's POV**

So, someone seriously needs to remind me not to eat shitty cafeteria pizza, while playing mental _Dawnette Says_ with _honey-blonde._

I barely made it through the morning with all of _his_ oogling. Ignoring someone who you had a mysterious, romantic dream about and have three classes with... is seriously some hard ass work. Not to mention two other girls who look just like him, one who sat at the table with him yesterday and looked like she was made by _Mattel_ and some short, pixie-looking chick staring into the depths of your soul as well?

Definitely hard ass work.

Just like the other people that stared and whispered, I was so tempted to turn around and just yell, "BLACK GIRLS ARE MADE OUT OF BROWN SUGAR, HONEY AND MAGIC." So they would stop with the murmurs and glances and whispers and stares. I wasn't _that_ special. A hot commodity for being _the new girl that got detention of her first day_ , but come on.

After lunch and fifteen minutes into my 6th period which surprisingly included _honey-blonde_ , as well... it was no shocker that the universe allowed us both to raise our hands at the _same damn time_ and ask to be excused to the bathroom at the _same damn time._

Something had to be up.

And everybody else up in there must have thought so, too, because they all gave us looks. Hell, even the teacher, a nice lady named _Mrs. Appleton,_ raised an eyebrow.

Regardless of the weirdness of the both of us needing to be excused... she let us go and thus the gossip would commence.

I spared Jasper Hale no glance, but made my way to the nearest _little girl's room_ as _corn-silk_ bitch said it, and... vomited. The pizza was horrendous. I would definitely be driving to a diner or packing a lunch every day, instead of indulging in horrible tasting, cafeteria food. It was no wonder why my stomach was tore up last night before I went to bed. And why cousin Bella told me to get a salad, particularly here.

With a heavy exhale, I rinse my mouth with some of the bottled water, I pulled from my purse and pop a piece of _Trident*_ mint-gum in my mouth. Didn't need a repeat of stank breath should I talk to honey-blonde... which I _wasn't_ going to do.

After washing my hands, I walked out of the bathroom about to make my way back to class, but pause at the sound of heavy heaving...

Curse the trait of curiosity embedded in my genes and soul.

It came from nowhere other than the boys bathroom, right across from the girls, considering the fact that the hallway was empty.

With a heavy sigh, I walk across the hall and creek the door open―hopefully no camera showed this as me walking into the boy's bathroom.

And there you go. Thanks again, universe

"Oh... uh... are you... you know?" It was a bit the nerve-wracking to see him vomiting. He ate that nasty ass, greasy pizza too.

I breathed out another sigh and took the leap of faith, walking into the bathroom. God, please let nobody else walk in and think something. "Are you okay?" My words weren't slurred. But were clear. You'd think after all of this work done to avoid him, that when I finally encounter him again... that I'd stutter or faint as I anticipated.

But no.

Instead of the worse happening, I actually felt a bit... _pained_? to see him like that.

Licking my lips, I shift my purse over to my other shoulder. "Jasper?"

He finally finished, running over to the sink to rinse and wipe his mouth with a paper-towel.

"I'm fine, ma'am." He finally spoke, appearing in front of me in less than a blink of an eye. I was going to allow myself to be ignorant and not question him on how the hell he was that fast... because it was kind of comforting to be near him. Sure, he looked a little lethal with all of those scars dancing across his face and body... and did run away from me the last time we spoke, which was yesterday... But... I felt kind of, _good_. "I thank you for your patronage." He smiled a toothy grin, revealing his pearly whites.

Was _Crest_ or _Colgate_ in need of a toothpaste spokesperson? Because baby, here... had them teeth!

I nod, smiling myself. "And I thank you for not running away like last time..."

"In my defense, _Nailah_..." He started, biting his bottom lip. Stop. Stop before I seriously faint this time... "I didn't mean to run away from you like that! I-I... I wanted you to be safe and I didn't want to be tempted to―" he abruptly paused and took a step back.

"Tempted to what?" I took a step forward. "And be safe from what? The racism and snide remarks from bummy ass bitches like _corn-silk_ and her friend? Or was it from the fact that you're just like everyone else... pretending to be nice just to spare the feelings of the new black girl in town?"

" _Nailah_ ―"

"My fucking name is Dawnette." I suddenly yelled, feeling my emotions getting worked up. I breathed in and breathed out, and then suddenly felt calm.

I shook my head at him, before dropping the subject at hand. He seemed a little hurt about my assumptions but then again, I could care less, because he made no sense. My actions made no sense. That dream made no sense. Nothing regarding him made no sense. Yet here I was... in the boy's bathroom, so close and so drawn to the guy.

"You've got it all wrong, ma'am..." Jasper whispered, loud enough for me to hear. He stepped closer. A little too close to my liking. But what the fuck... I stepped closer, too. We were within a few centimeters away from each other.

Jasper down at me, his breaths shaky and heavy. I looked up at him, my breaths short and feathered. He reached a hand up, touching my cheek with his cold fingertips. My cheeks flushing with a red blush. I could feel him gingerly tracing over my freckles, nose, cheekbones, chin and his callous thumb touching my lips.

I think I stopped breathing.

"It's me, _Jasper_."

Yes, baby. Yes. I know it's you. I know you're that honey-blonde kid with the weird scars and staring problem. Who else could you be?

"And it's me, _leaving_." I managed to say in one go, separating myself from him. We breathed the same air for those few minutes. But at the moment, I needed my own. And needed to leave before some other guy walked in or the students and teacher of our 6th period suspected something was going down between us.

Which there wasn't!

"You know. _Class_." I say once he looked a bit pained. Stop, please. Before I'm tempted to just hug you. Jesus.

"I have class just like you. Just like a _normal_ teenager." I remind him. He unfreeze from his spot and gulps, nodding once.

"Right, Na― _Dawnette_."

* * *

 _Theme song of chapter:_

 _Go Head by awreeoh_

* * *

*―references:

 _Scattered dream, Far off memory―_ Kingdom Hearts II opening quote

 _Canon―_ an American camera company

 _jive―_ 1) to irritate or annoy 2) to throw off someone's style 3) pointless or deceptive talk/rhetoric

 _Zulu-love_ _―_ showing of love, mercy and kindness regardless of a person's background, colour of skin, and origin.

 _Trident_ _―_ dirty mouth, clean it up.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Okay, please tell me this one didn't suck as much as I think it did. I feel like it was missing a lot of things but I plan to make up for it next chapter. Trust me, it will be perfect and you all will love it.**

 **But as we can see... tension between Jasper and Dawn. What does Alice know? What's going to happen next? ;)**

 **I was skeptical about this one, but it couldn't be helped. Was it any good?**

 **Let me know what you all are thinking! Please review and all that good stuff and I promise the update will be out much more quicker. I'm pushing for next Saturday! So please, everyone stay to ones and I promise the next chapter will not disappoint!**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	7. Purple Haze

**Wow, guys. Thanks for those favorites, follows and reviews. I would smile seeing those numbers rise. As for the lateness of this update―writer's block is a bitch. For days, I stared at already written dialogue, struggling to add in the details. And then, it wouldn't come out to my liking.**

 **This was decent enough to serve as a chapter so... enjoy! I tried but don't worry―see the A/N at the bottom!**

 **Disclaimers: I do not own Twilight. If I did, complexion wouldn't mean a thing and you'd see more** _**colour**_.

* * *

Chapter 6: Purple Haze

It was the early morning of the next day and the guys were gathered at Forks High waiting for the first bell. Tyler could breathe knowing that his license wasn't suspended by Chief Swan for losing control behind the wheel of his mini-van about a week ago and... almost killing Bella.

He gave Eric and Mike a ride, the trio talking about homework, _Bella_ , Eric's encounter with the _new girl_ and Mike's " _desire_ ".

"You _wouldn't._ " He shrugged, pulling into his designated parking space.

Mike waved off Tyler with a beckon of his hand and bragged, as he unclipped his seatbelt, "I bet you 50 bucks that I _could_."

"Man, you heard what she said to Eric." Tyler rolled his eyes, taking his key from the ignition. He grabbed his textbook and the three stepped out of his van. "What makes you think she'd be interested in you?"

"She said what she said to Eric because he was _annoying_ her." Mike retorted, shaking his head after giving a glance to their Asian friend. He leaned against the back of Tyler's dark van, trailing off, "And besides... I'm _cute_."

"Yeah," Tyler nudged Eric and the two burst out laughing, "cute enough to only have _Jessica_ wantin' your ass."

Mike scolded at the comment, "Oh, yeah? And what about you and Lauren, huh?" He playfully shoved Tyler, "You think you could _get_ _some*_ with Lauren always on your back?"

The brown skinned boy frowned.

Mike then hooked an arm around Eric's neck and put him in a headlock, ruffling his sleek and black hair, teasing, "And don't even get me started on you and Angela!"

At the mention of the name _Angela_ , Eric stopped struggling in Mike's arms and froze in place like a block of ice.

"Man, who said I wanted _some_?" Tyler grumbled. "I'm just saying... she's good looking and all, but I'm focused on that _Bella_."

The blonde released Eric and kicked a pebble that went skidding across the parking lot. "Bella's with Cullen now." His tone was quiet with a tad of bitterness laced in his tone at the mention of _Cullen_.

"And your fucking point is? Who says I couldn't take her from Cullen?" Tyler boasted, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"His _hair_ , his _face_ , _clothes_ _,_ the fucking _name_ , Tyler?!" Mike chided, his tone turning from bitter to pissed in a matter of seconds.

By now many cars and students were flooding into the parking lot.

" _Oh_ _, shit!_ The girls are coming over―we'll discuss this later." Tyler hushed Mike, nudging his head in the direction of the shiny, silver _BMW_ belonging to Lauren, that pulled up and parked a couple of spaces down. Both boys watched as the light blonde and brunettes emerged from the car: _Lauren Mallory_ , _Jessica Stanley_ and lastly _Angela Webber_ , climbing out the backseat.

Eric, Mike and Tyler watched the three until they reached the van.

"Hey _you_." Lauren poked the brown-skinned boy with a flirty smile.

Tyler smirked and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in close to him. "Lauren, what's up?"

As he leaned in for a kiss, Lauren sneered and backed an inch away, "No, Tyler," She pointed a finger to her dark pink, glossed lips. "New ten dollar lipstick."

"Hi Mike..." Jessica poked him with her elbow, nodding her head.

She watched with expectant eyes as he glanced down at her before Lauren cleared her throat and raised her thin eyebrows.

" _Oh_ , hey, Jess." Mike boyishly smiled, patting the brunette's shoulder.

Jessica Stanley glanced at Lauren and Tyler and then Eric and Angela before trailing off, "Anything... _interesting_ you have going on?"

Mike shook his head and retorted in a sheepish tone, " _Nah_ , just waiting for Bella."

"Oh..." Jessica muttered, looking down at her black, buckled flats.

"We saw you boys on our way over here―what's the _t_?"

"The _what_?" Eric questioned, confusion laced in his tone and engraved in his face.

Lauren rolled her eyes before leaning forward and cocking her head to the side, "The _gossip_ , Eric."

The Asian nodded before saying, "Oh, well Mike and Tyler here were making bets for who'd get to the new girl first―"

"Eric, you fucking―" Tyler started to yell, holding up a fist until a small one came pelting on his back. " _Ouch!_ ―Lauren what the hell?!"

He turned to face her and halted at the redness in her fair-skinned face and anger in her tone, "I can't believe you'd even _think_ to go for someone like her!" Lauren screeched, her small chest heaving. "She's so _tacky_ and _barbaric_ and _argh_!"

"Uh, Lauren?" Eric held up a finger.

Lauren's head snapped to the left, "What?!"

"What's _argh_?"

"Come on, Eric..." Angela whispered, grabbing the hand of her best friend.

"But Ange'―"

" _Come on_ , Eric." She repeated in a more assertive tone, dragging him away.

There was a silence; the only sounds heard were natural. The wind blowing, different car engines and horns in the parking lot and regular chatter from the students of Forks High. Not to mention, Lauren Mallory's huffs and puffs of anger.

With her thin lips plastered into a frown, Jessica narrowed her eyes and nudged the blonde, Mike. "Looks like somebody's been busy..." She murmured.

"Well―I mean..." He stammered before continuing, "she looks like a really nice girl, the type that's all artsy... you know, _'one with the_ _universe_ _'_ and flower-crowns and _aesthetic_ _*_ and stuff."

"These artsy girls are cool until you realize they wants to be with the universe and not cho' ass." Tyler laughed, shoving Mike but he was immediately shut up by the narrowed green eyed from the corn-silk blonde.

"She's not artsy at all!" Lauren seethed. "She's a complete trouble-making whore―first day here and she spends it in detention."

"Eric said he was in Bates' class when it happened, Lauren." - "She made it _lit*_ ," Mike affirmed.

"Yeah, yeah!" Tyler backed him up while smirking, "He said the song playing said something like _suckin' on my titties_..."

"I bet that's what Jasper Hale does every night." Lauren sneered, giving a look to Tyler. "They were together when she was supposed to be using the bathroom."

"Doesn't mean anything, Lauren..." Mike trailed off.

"You only say that because you think she's attractive, Mike!" Jessica suddenly yelled, punching his shoulder. Lauren stepped over and punched his other shoulder.

" _Ouch_ ―hey!― _Ouch_ ," he whined as they took turns punching his arm and shoulders. "Why do you girls keep hitting me?"

"Haven't you got a clue yet, Mike?"

"What?" He was generally confused. The _what?_ made Jessica shake her head and walk away, heading to her first class before the first bell even rang.

He threw up his hands and let them fall back to his sides, "What did I say?"

Tyler shrugged and Lauren only crossed her arms over her chest. She faced away from the boys with a short huff and grimaced when her green eyes spotted the rusty, orange colored truck maneuvering a turn into the parking lot.

"Oh, goodie. Here comes, _Bella_."

"Not riding with Edward Cullen today, I see." Tyler smugly commented, raising his eyebrows at Mike.

 **Dawnette's POV**

Thanks to this school's shitty _parking decal_ system that students have to pay for in order to park in the student parking lot... I was riding 'round here looking for my Cousin Bella's designated parking space, which I was _obviously_ struggling to find.

It was sad that a school had to squander money from their students in order to allow someone to park their car. _What if I had a skateboard or a bike?_ I thought. _Would I have to pay to put that somewhere, too?_

 _The man_ _*_ played too much games.

As I maneuvered _B's_ monster around the lot, someone in a silver Volvo beeped the horn, rushing me.

As annoyed as I already was this morning, a beeping horn and impatient person could only make it worse. With quick actions, I rolled down the window and stuck out my middle finger―a sista' was struggling and whoever that was, thought it was cool to just sit there and honk their fancy horn at me?

 _People_ _are_ _so rude_. I shook my head.

Also beeped Bella's loud horn right back at the Volvo-driving-asshole and then rolled the window up, tuning the little knob that controlled the volume of her radio to the max.

Jimi Hendrix's _Purple Haze_ filled the car and my current annoyances were somewhat irrelevant at the moment―this was my _jam_ and just like I would sing horribly on occasions in the shower, I would do the same while struggling to find the correct parking space.

Why struggle in pain when you could struggle having fun?

 _Purple Haze all in my brain,_

 _lately things don't seem the same,_

 _actin' funny but I don't know why_

 _'scuse me while I kiss the sky_

"Ain't that a bitch..." I muttered, when parking space _0-256_ came into view.

Don't get me wrong... it was a nice spot. Right in front of the school, not a far distance from the front office... but the assholes standing right next to it... surrounding the dark, mini-van...

Slowly easing the truck in the space, my eyes trailed on each and every one of them:

 _Corn-silk_ , that lost puppy named Mike and... Tyler Crowley. Cousin _B_ told her about him and how he almost killed her with the van he was leaned up against.

If you ask me, Uncle C should've suspended his license. Trying to kill my cousin like that.

 _Help me!_

 _. . ._

 _Help me!_

Jimi sang, his guitar rifts melodizing over me.

 _Shit, I_ _need_ _help too, Jimi._ I thought to myself, turning down the radio and pulling the key from the ignition.

With a heavy sigh, I slung my purse over my shoulder and opened the door, climbing out.

Immediately, they all stared me down like I was the one who assassinated Martin Luther King.

I looked to my left and to right. Then down at the yellow flannel and black leggings I threw on this morning. It was a basic outfit but I _did_ look cute and the ass _is_ fat.

"What?" I questioned, slamming the door shut behind me. "Are these leggings too tight? Never seen melanin before?"

 _Corn-_ _silk_ bitch scoffs and sticks her pointed nose in the air as if I'm the boogers up her nostrils.

To me, it's the perfect position to just _run it_ _*_ and uppercut her snobbish ass.

"Problem?" I raise eyebrows, frowning.

No one said a thing but just stared. Stared like I was as captivating or disgusting as Ted Bundy―dude was a _lady killer_. Literally and figuratively. But had a yuck-mouth. Worst teeth I ever seen.

"You-You..." Stammered _puppy-boy_ who was kind of cute with his blue eyes as he slowly pointed a finger at me.

A hand found it's way on my hip as I cocked my head to the side, sassing back "Yes? _I_?"

"That's Bella's truck." Tyler Crowley stated the obvious.

"Yes, again." I nod once, **really** unimpressed with this conversation. "I know."

"Like, as much as I can't stand Bella..." _Corn-silk_ blurted out, "I do care to know what you've did with her body."

Yeah, we're going to pause for a moment in history:

* * *

Cotton swabs consist of a small wad of cotton wrapped around one or both ends of a short rod, usually made of either wood, rolled paper, or plastic. They are commonly used in a variety of applications including first aid, cosmetics application, cleaning, and arts and crafts.

Invented by some dude named from the 1920s named _Leo Gerstenzang_ , his product, which he named "Baby Gays" actually went on to become the most widely sold brand with the name, "Q-tips". The _Q_ stood for "quality".

* * *

And how was the relevant to me now?

Felt like I could really use some _quality tips_ right now, considering the fact that my ears must be cleaned in order for me to hear correctly. I think the bitch said "hide her body" as in... _murder_ and _my cousin_.

Right?

No, no―she _**clearly**_ meant something else... her ass better had.

So I only smile, looking head on at _corn-silk_. And I step an inch closer and say, "Excuse me?"

"I _said_ , what did you do with her―" she couldn't repeat her nonsense because Tyler's callous hand shot over her mouth, muffling her nasally words.

His brown eyes glanced into hers and then looked into mine―was that _sweat_ I could see beating down his forehead? "Lauren, _no, no, no_..."

He pulled her to the side and she snatched away, an arm landing on her skinny hips, "What, Tyler?! If you think I can't handle her―"

" **Never** **ever, ever, ever** accuse a black girl of murder!" He cut her off.

Yeah, somebody needed to get me a _Q_ -tip fast.

"Murder?!" I exclaimed, leaning forward.

 _Corn-silk_ actually had the audacity to say that I _murdered_ my cousin? My own flesh and blood?―we were both human and on that _Zulu-love_. So that made Bella my damn flesh and blood and I didn't care what the colors of our skin or DNA said.

Tyler gave a glance back at me, before sighing in exasperation, "See what I mean?"

And this dude had the audacity to characterize me!

I was **NOT** institutionalized.

"Hold up!" I held up a hand. "First of all, just because you're black too... doesn't mean you're allowed to sit there and stereotype me as being a bitter and angered African American woman!"

The dynamite was lit.

I made sure I had the eye-contact of each one of them before continuing with bite in my tone, "Second of all, it's too much of a pretty day in this dreary town to think about kicking _corn-silk_ bitch's ass." I motioned to her and she gasped as a response. "I have pride and _much_ better things to do than stoop to your silver spooned level."

The dynamite started to spark.

And this was where it got personal―because this was an honest question. A very _honest_ question. "And third of all, why _the_ hell would I even think about murdering _**my**_ cousin?"

Then _boom_ goes the dynamite.

They all stared at me like I had just dropped a bomb. _Puppy-boy's_ mouth hanging open, Tyler frozen in place and _corn-silk_ holding her chest like she was having heartburn.

"What? You don't know that Bella is my cousin?" I ask, and then confirm the 'shocking' truth, "She is. And Chief Swan is my uncle."

"Yeah and _Beyoncé_ is my aunt." I hear Lauren mutter under her breath.

I shoot that bitch a glare with my eyes and she immediately closes her mouth.

"Bella lent me her truck since she'd rather get rides to school and back from her little _Eddie_." I then explain with a roll of my eyes―ain't it something how there's those points in your life when you have go explain your life to irrelevant people in it?

I shake my head that the frozen _Three Musketeers_. "Now if you will excuse me," - "I need to find Cousin _B_ and then _Buff-Daddy_ ―he owes me three hundred for the show in Bates' class."

I place my hand a hand on my hip and scan the parking lot, looking to see if Cousin Bella and her little _boo-thang_ had arrived. I was going to meet him today―she had been begging me and I finally relented. _Plus_ , I had to find _Buff-Daddy_ ―which I did:

Baby hopped out of a red convertible― _shit_ , if he didn't have 300 to give, I could take it for a spin―with... _Barbie-bitch_.

Well, then.

And I spotted Bella, too.

... _Oh_.

Pale skin―structured face with a square jaw, high cheekbones, perfect eyebrows, straight nose, full lips and a head full of auburn and messy, uneven hair that could pass as a new fad―he stepped out of the silver Volvo, a gallant step in his walk.

It was kind of unsettling with how beautiful he was. Much like _Buff-Daddy_... and _Barbie_... and _honey-blonde_...

 _Pale-Skin-Auburn-Hair_ froze mid-way and his head snapped in my direction. My dark brown eyes met a pair of familiar butterscotch golden eyes―similar to _Buff-Daddy_ 's and _honey-blonde_ 's.

He grinned a crooked smile for a brief moment before his head knocked back and musical laughter filled the chilly air―as well as a _screech_ ―a female screech.

My eyes flickered to where it came from along with other curious people, catching nothing but the ferocious glare from _Barbie._ Standing right next to her was Emmett, a.k.a _Buff-Daddy_.

Smirking a grin so big that he looked like _The Joker_ with dimples.

But I glared right back at _Barbie_ because I had no idea what her problem was and who she was, to be exact. All I know is that she associated with my "acquaintances"―Emmett and Jasper.

However, she was unimportant because I finally confirmed the suspicion of _Pale-Skin-Auburn-Hair_ being _B's_ new boyfriend.

The dude named _Edward_.

Like the gentleman she described him to be, he did go up to the passenger side of his prissy but nice car and open the door for her.

A usual blush adorned my cousin's face and she bit her bottom lip, chocolate brown eyes scanning the parking lot as well.

"I think... I _love_ you..." I turned around just to be face to face with _puppy-boy_ and his blue eyes looking quite mystified.

"... _Thanks?_ " I mumbled, my tone hitching the slightest at the sudden 'confession'.

"... Could we maybe go out s―" he suddenly shut his mouth and narrowed his eyes.

"Good morning, ma'am." I turned around again just to end up face to face with _honey-blonde_ now. His greeting held no bounds though―his **dark** eyes did not look at me. They were trained on _puppy-boy_ named Mike and were **widened**. His hands twitched every few seconds or so and he just gave off the type of vibe that made you want to run for the hills and hog tail.

I could feel Mike's fear radiating. Shit, I could feel my own.

I cautiously stepped forward, a hand touching his stiff, cold shoulder. "Jasper?" My tone was uncertain. He didn't answer me. He only stared hard at Mike. Like he was a predator stalking his prey.

I gave a glance back at _puppy-boy_ who was frozen in place. It was like they were both in a trance, just... _looking_ at each other.

"Hi!" A soprano, bright voice beamed. It took me a moment to realize that she was standing behind Jasper the whole entire time. It was the short, pixie chick from _Yearbook_ that thought it was cool to stare.

She was slight and petite, a complete elf to Jasper, the giant.

She rounded honey-blonde, a graceful skip in her tiny step. A dainty, pale and small hand shot out from her side. "I'm Alice."

I glanced briefly at her hand before reluctantly shaking it. " _Alice_." And just where did she come from? And who was she? And why was she with Jasper?

Pixie girl named Alice took a step back after releasing my hand from her cold touch―a strange feature in her _**and**_ Jasper. She was now at _honey-blonde's_ side.

Her hand grabbed his hand. And squeezed tightly.

And now it was _**my**_ turn to stare.

"Yes." She nodded, beaming a dazzling smile. It made me grimace. And want to unlatch her hand from Jasper's.

My teeth grit―if it had been possible, my eyes would have seared holes through her. I couldn't stand the sight of that bright smile and her perfectly flawless face.

Her tiny, tight ass even next to him set off a rage of burning emotions. I _looked_ at her. Really _looked_ at her.

"Your name's Alice like―" I started to say at random before she interrupted me,

"Yes. Like _Alice in Wonderland_." Well, then. Not only was she holding hands with Jasper and liked to stare at people for no reason―but she also liked to be rude.

I don't see myself liking this girl.

 _Especially_ with her fucking hand still interlaced with his...

"Well, it was nice meeting you, _Dawnette_." Alice smirked―like she had a million of secrets. And knew some of Jasper's too.

I didn't look at her. I looked at _him_.

His eyes were still trailed on Mike―who was probably dead behind me. His jaw was _still_ stiffened and his stance was _still_ predator-like.

"... Yeah, you too." I mutter, half-heartedly, not even stunning her wishy-washy personality. _It wasn't nice meeting you because I don't know what the fuck you want, why you're here and who you are to Jasper. Not that it should matter anyways..._

Who was he to me? We had only met a couple of days ago and now I felt myself getting angry and... _possessive_ , if that's the word.

Why he decided to come over here and do that? _I don't know_.

Why she had to bring her ass over here with him and hold his hand and be so smug? _I don't fucking know._

"Come on, Jazz." Her slim fingers locked with his and she nudged him forward with an extra spring in her already graceful step. "We don't want to be late for first period!"

 _We_. The key word that can set a sista' off into a murderous rampage...

Alice turned on her heel, and pulled Jasper with her―he finally seemed to register what the hell was going on and looked to me warily and then to her, before following, never letting her hand go.

Glaring at the spot where she once stood, I mock in my head, _We don't want to nen-nen-nen-ne-ne, Jazz._

I just want to kick off my boot and throw it at her head... and his too. Coming over here and calling me _ma'am_ and then staring and then bringing her ass over here...

"So as I was saying―" Mike suddenly started again before groaning, "Of all the no-good-luck!"

 _Same_ , man.

The spot that once held Jasper and Alice, now was replaced with designer sneakers and dirty _Converse_.

" _Cullen_." I heard puppy-boy grumble from behind me.

"Hello, _Mike_." A musical tone chimed, a bit of smugness in his voice.

I shifted my purse to the other shoulder and look up, meeting the butterscotch eye belonging to _Pale-Skin-Auburn-Hair_ and the chocolate brown belonging to my cousin.

"Dawnie..." She took a deep breath before whispering shyly, "This is―this is _Edward_."

He smiled a crooked grin and bowed for the melanin queen I was, "It's nice to finally meet you, _Dawnette_." My name rolled off his tongue in a symphony that had a girl forgetting about throwing my shoe at _Alice In Wonderland_ and made my freckled cheeks blush a light pink color.

I could tell because my face was suddenly warm. Warm with beauty and warm with a blush.

Edward's crooked smile plastered into an even broader one and he snickered, shaking his head.

I raised eyebrows at that but shook it off, once I noticed how tight he held my cousin's hand and how close she clung to his sweater―the same one Bella gave me to wear when we first met up again at the airport.

"So how do you like it here so far?" Edward coolly questioned, gesturing for me to walk ahead.

I did so and they followed my pace, my cousin giddy at the fact that I was being nice and making conversation with her little _Eddie_.

"How do _you_ feel about Tyler Crowley?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Before I could disclose any information about myself, he had to pass the test first.

"Tyler?" His voice hitches the slightest and his jaw set and shoulders stiffened.

 _Was it because Tyler almost killed Bella or because he was black?_

"But I'd like to let you know that I am full supporter of black―" I held up a hand because he was **NOT** allowed to finish that sentence.

"Yeah―scratch that―do you have black friends? And do you respect our culture?" Bella shot me a look, but I kept going, "My cousin is widely associated with _many_ cultures―those of people in _La Push_ , my African mother, her own and many others. Are you? How old are you? Who's your favorite African American hero? Pull the _Martin Luther King Jr_. and be prepared for an interrogation on his life." I say in one breath, stopping once we were in the hallway.

My hands went on my hip as I waited for what dude had to say.

"My family and I moved to Forks a couple of months ago, and I actually had to leave behind some African American friends in our old town― _Tyrone_ was his name. I enjoyed the company of his little brother named _Daquan_ as well―and while my culture dates back to _many decades ago_ , I respect which ever you take up. You will not see any appropriations coming from myself or my family, even though my mother _Esme_ does enjoy decorating the interior of our home with many African artifacts and loves the _Zulu_ philosophy."

Was he bullshitting me or was he dead serious? I leaned forward listening for more.

"My parents have traveled the world once in their _lifetime_ , bringing many cultures to my family's attention and we have respectfully learned about them―as for my favorite African American hero... I tend to lean more on the _Nelson Mandela_ side―he was a brave, brilliant man―fighting for rights that could have only hoped to be gained. It's a shame that talent like that was not widely accepted during those times. And that he was imprisoned. May his soul live on, though." He finished, bowing his head as if he was about to say a prayer.

Edward looked up at Bella and then at me with twinkling eyes.

I turn to my cousin, sassing, "Bella, how much exactly did you tell this _fool_?"

She blushed, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip, "Nothing at all, Dawn."

" _Mm_." I grunt, eyeing _Eddie_ with squinty eyes.

"I believe you on everything―except the _Tyrone_ and _Daquan_ thing." I tell him. Because it was so obvious. "Everyone knows that those are the most stereotypical names _ever_."

"I apologize―"

"Yeah, yeah, just treat her right, and if there's any funny business you do to her... I'll shank you." I threaten, holding up a finger.

His eyes light up _unnaturally_ and those too perfectly arched, auburn eyebrows raise. "So did I pass?"

I start walking down the hallway because the first bell had just rang and shrug, "I guess, _Eddie_."

"I think she definitely likes you." I hear cousin Bella say to him, which makes me smile.

.

.

.

 **Jasper's POV**

I've heard that humans like to sip wine. I tried it once―and I spit it right out. It did nothing for me―not a buzz like a beer or a burn and tickle like a whiskey. Nothing. But drinking blood is like sipping wine in a way, just a little slurpier, a little messier, and it stains pretty well.

I would sip Mike Newton's blood like wine―cause him pain. Let him be alive to feel me slowly sucking the life away from him.

I could feel that paper flesh crushing beneath my strong grip. I could see all of the _**red**_ gushing out, sticky and piping hot―slipping through my fingers, dripping down my forearms, dripping onto my shoes, dripping and seeping into the earth.

His futile screams.

Mike Newton's dead body at my feet―I could see it. I wanted it to happen. I needed him dead for talking to what was _mine_.

Declaring his _oh, so_ "love" for _Nailah_. **My** _Nailah_.

At least the _old me_ would. The _other me_. The _me_ that existed a century and some decades ago.

Alice saw that I'd jeopardize my family's stay here in Forks, the moment I caught whiff of Mike and Nailah in the same area... and heard his rancid confession―my pixie wife intervened and dragged me away at the right moment.

Had she not been there and buddy continued to stare me down like that... I would have snapped.

And every human in my sight _**excluding**_ her would have been dead.

I held my breath for the rest of the day―and avoided Nailah all together. I couldn't work up the will to make an explanation about this morning, had she asked me.

And I also couldn't tell her about Alice either.

She'd _know_... And she couldn't know.

I could feel the fear rising in her. The fear of me being so dangerous, even if she was unaware of what I am. But I could feel the jealousy forming―her need to make the mark as me belonging to her. The possessiveness. And I could also feel the pure curiosity.

Today was a shaky one.

And hunting always made it better.

I took down two elk.

Animal blood was never as nearly satisfying as the human blood I crave and taste decades ago―but it was sustainable. I could deal with it. And I would let this new lifestyle as a vegetarian vampire sink in.

Quickly draining them, I felt full enough to last me another week or so after one last kill―a stray moose that somehow ended up all the way here in lil' Forks, Washington. Probably took a trail from Canada that led to here.

I was on my way back to the house until I heard a sound―an _oh, so_ familiar sound.

A sweet soprano voice filled with sass and the purr of a rucked engine belonging to one vehicle I grew attuned to in the past few weeks―Edward's human's truck― _Bella_ ―and the sound of _**her**_ voice.

Instinctively, I followed the sound of her voice. At blinding speed, leaping from tree to tree until I reached the forest line.

My freshly painted topaz eyes sought out the orange, rusted truck pushing at a constant speed of about _55._

The said truck was nearing and nearing, I hid myself behind the trunk of a large tree, letting the branched down leaves make it hard to see me with average human eyes.

And I waited.

And waited.

The truck that was not so far away suddenly jerked to a stop and I could hear her cuss under her breath, slamming a fist down on the dashboard in annoyance.

* * *

 _Chapter Theme song_

 _Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix_

* * *

 _*―references_

 _Get some_ ― Score some booty.

 _Lit_ ― When something is turned up or poppin' ...

 _The Man_ ― head of "the establishment" put in place to "bring us down." Though nobody has physically seen "the man," he is assumed to be a male caucasian between the ages of 25-40 and is rumored to have a substantial amount of acquired wealth, presumably acquired by exploiting those whom his "establishment" is "keeping down."

 _Aesthetic ―_ ADJECTIVE: 1) Beautiful 2) Sensitive to or appreciative of art or beauty

 _Run it_ ― to start a fight or to just rush somebody

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I realize I take too long to write these chapters. I'm seriously going to attempt to change that.**

 **As for this chapter, I was stuck on the fact of wanting to bring an update out, so I feel like I bullshited so much stuff―like Dawn's "interview" with Edward and the scene with Jasper and Mike. It could have been better, so if it disappointed, I apologize.**

 **I am however, going to make up for it in the next update. I promise that. We finally get somewhere with Jasper and Dawn. More than you expected.**

 **Reviews are appreciated ;) please let me know what you all are thinking! Jasper's reactions? The whole chapter? The pause for the moment in history? My goal before the next update is 25, so please let's try to reach that!**

 **Expect an update possibly in a week―give or take a few days. I promise that this time. The chapter is already a quarter done!**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	8. Two Weeks

**Disclaimers: Twilight is not owned by me.**

 **You all are AMAZING. Thanks so much for helping me reach my goal, and for being such lovely readers/reviewers. I'm happy for the following number and favorites.**

 **Here is a good chapter for you all. Took longer than I wanted, but I believe this was worth the wait.**

 **You all are in for it. And next chapter... damn bruh. That's all I gotta say.**

 **Please enjoy!**

Btw, it's intense. Be prepared.

* * *

Chapter 7: Two Weeks

 **Dawnette's POV**

Bates' class was shit. Classes with honey-blonde glaring at me/not looking my way/talking to _Alice in Wonderland_ was shit. Lunch was shit. I felt like shit. Today was just shit.

Shit, why was everything shit?

The bell rang and I immediately grabbed my purse, not wanting to look at his stupid face. Or any of their stupid faces; _Buff-Daddy_ was an exception for the fact that he did pay out today. The beautiful amount of 300 was placed in my hand and putting a blazing fire in my wallet where it gently rests. But his _Barbie_ _girl_ , _Alice in Wonderland_ and _honey-blonde_? Fuck 'em all.

I kept walking till I got to _B_ 's monster and opened the door, tossing my purse and textbook I got from _AP history_ in the cab. As I sat in the drivers seat I noticed _Alice in Wonderland_ skipping to the shiny red convertible belonging to _you-can_ - _be-who-you-wanna-be-Barbie-girl._

Realizing that not only did they look just alike uncannily with the pale skin, flawless faces and golden eyes―they also knew each other on that level where they carpooled with together.

 _Whatever_. I muttered in my head, rolling my eyes.

After this morning, I decided I wasn't going to give two fucks about Jasper... And that Barbie and Alice were enemies.

With a huff, I pick up the CDs on the dashboard of Bella's truck and started going through them―nothing wiped away the stress of dealing with people like good _ol'_ tunes to jam out to while you drove yourself home.

I flipped through the cds.

Ike and Tina Turner, _Greatest Hits_...

" _Old shit_." I tossed it on the seat.

Ike and Tina made good music but they wasn't what I wanted to listen to at the moment.

Rihanna _, Good girl Gone bad..._

" _Bullshit_." Tossed that one too.

Rihanna _had_ good music. It was a surprise to me on what this was even doing in _B_ 's truck. Someone must have gave it to her. I went through her MP3 player, thinking about borrowing it for the day―she had old shit like _The Beatles_ , _Panic! At the Disco_ and _Doris Day_. No Rihanna.

At all.

Dance Gavin Dance _, Acceptance Speech..._

" _New shit_."

I wasn't in a mood for _rawr-rawr-rawr-screamo-rawr_ at the moment, either. But these guys were good. Plus, all the guys in the band was cute.

Still though.

 _Nah_.

I stopped at the last one―a white CD with Cousin Bella's sloppy handwriting, that read

 _ **misc**_.

"Hm..." I cocked my head to the side and slipped it in, while clicking through songs I had never heard before.

I settled for this upbeat one and blasting the radio up all the way up, bobbing my head to the beat and proceeded to maneuver the truck out of the crowded parking lot.

Of course, the quickest way to Uncle C's house was backed up with traffic from these frantic teens trying to get home just like me. But instead of waiting, because I had an impatient soul, I drive the truck in the opposite direction.

I didn't mind taking the long way home for once... considering the fact that this song was bomb as fuck.

As I drove and dancing in my seat to the song that I had on put on a repeat-loop,

 _Walk til you're dead_

 _Take every step with me_

 _Walk til you're dead_

 _You think I'm something special_

 _Then walk til you're dead with me_

 _With me, with me_

I found myself thinking back to this morning.

His eyes were the most scariest thing I had ever seen. The way they glowed with such lethalness―he was going to kill Mike... had _Alice in Wonderland_ not stepped in.

I guess I should be grateful for that―but I wasn't. If she could calm his ass down and I couldn't, what did that make me?

Oh, right.

 _Trash_.

Nothing important to him.

I forgot that I wasn't supposed to give a fuck and that I only knew the dude for like, three days. (even though it feels as if I've known him my whole entire life)

But when those eyes were like warm butterscotch... I could easily find myself staring into them forever. It is a wonder how they even changed colors like that.

They were red in my dream which was a bigger wonder... but, _ah well_.

Back to the song.

The track restarted, the acoustics and organ dubbing up and those clear-cut female vocals belonging to such a goddess, started singing the chorus again and I joined in, dancing a little as I rested a hand on the leather steering wheel and drove down the long stretch of road.

" _Try til it hurts!_

 _You've got a piece of me,_

 _try til it hurts!_

 _you think I'm_ _something special,_

 _Then walk til you're dead with me!_

 _With me, with me_ ―" my voice hitched the slightest when a weird _clunk!_ sound was heard and this piece of truck skidded slowly to a stop.

"Son of a bitch..." I murmured to myself, eyebrows furrowed as I tried to crank the truck back up, but failed.

I pulled the key from the ignition and the put it back in and turned. Nothing happened. I tried with more force. Still nothing. This couldn't be happening! The tank got fucking filled last night, so I knew that gas wasn't the issue.

Slamming my fist down on the dashboard, I took the key out. With a huff, I slipped out the truck and walked to the front.

Sure enough, smoke was coming out of the hood when I popped it up, which made me groan.

Because just great.

Nothing could make a sista's day worse except having a broken down vehicle. In the middle of the fucking woods. On a long stretch of road. With a cellphone that had― _wow_ , barely any signal.

 **Jasper's POV**

Nailah kicked the bumper of the truck, knocking her head back and groaning loudly.

Before I knew what I was doing, I walked from behind the tree, revealing myself to her.

Nailah jumped and held her chest, " _Whoa_!" She shook her head and hollered, "You _**cannot**_ be coming out the wood looking half-crazed like that!"

I looked down at myself, seeing that I wasn't covered in blood―when I hunted, I tried to be as neat as possible. Not a drop of the elk or moose stained my clothes and I was still dressed in the attire I wore to school today.

Faded jeans, a regular t-shirt and my loafers.

I straightened a wrinkle on my dark blue shirt and apologized, "My apologies, ma'am..." bowing slightly before her. I then come up with the most humanly thing I can think of, "I was just returning from a... _hike_."

"In fancy loafers like that?" She scoffed, looking down at the designer shoes on my feet, her thin eyebrows raising.

Nailah barely believed that excuse, choosing to turn her head the other way and scratch the nape of her neck.

"White people always wasting money..." She mumbled under her breath, annoyance as her main emotion. I stepped a bit closer once she sighed, "So you can help me right?"

One of her dainty, brown-skinned hands gestured to Bella's smoking truck. "This piece of truck broke down―probably because of my horrible singing." her tiny, plump lips curved into a smirk that put pure porcelain to shame with the way her white teeth shined; I stared in awe at the way one simple smile could have such an effect on me.

She was my Nailah.

"Oh no, Nailah― _Dawnette_ ," I quickly correct myself because of the stern look that flashed briefly across her freckled face. "I assure you... it wasn't bad."

Rolling her dark brown eyes, Nailah chimed in a sugary tone, "But it wasn't good either, _Jazz_." She narrowed her eyes slightly and that's where I was sent a streak of jealousy once my nickname _Jazz_ escaped her lips. That moment then reminded me of this morning and how I felt her feeling once she met Alice.

"Quit jiving me!" My Nailah playfully shoved me moments later, that thin layer of jealousy washing away and turning into giddiness. As her hand grazed over my right shoulder, a chill was sent down my back and a shiver down her spine.

I had to hold my breath and resist from wanting to pounce on her and claim her back as mine. She... wasn't mine to claim... and I had Alice―my mate.

"Wow." Her voice was quiet. And her hand left my shoulder, both arms crossing over her chest. "You sure are cold, Jasper."

I nod once. "Yeah―there's a front moving in... I could feel it during my... _hike_..."

Nailah purses her lips and faces the truck. I walk in front of the hood and take a peek under, waving the smoke from our faces, before examining the engine and assembly-line.

Having Emmett around when Rosalie and Alice went on their shopping extravaganzas was a relief―we'd just work on his _Hummer_ or Rose's convertible and make adjustments to Carlisle's _Mercedes_. I was glad I knew alot about fixing cars.

That way I could offer my services to ma'am here.

"Soooo, what's the damage?" She popped up next to me, watching my fingers twist and uncap certain parts of the truck's assembly line.

"Well to start... your radiator cap is jammed." I pointed to the bright yellow cap oozing clear liquid. "And the transmission is acting up." Showed her that too. "And your oil might be low, considering the fact that there's a leak in the engine."

Nailah let out a huff, scratched her head full of tiny curls. Curls I wanted to run my fingers through. But there was excess oil on my hands. And I didn't have permission.

"That all sounds bad..." I hear her mutter, leaning to look into the hood of the truck. Nailah then cranes her neck to look up at me and asks, a hint of hope in her soprano tone, "Is there anything we can do?"

I gulp at her mouthwatering scent fuming my nostrils and swallow back venom gathering in my mouth. She was so damn close. I could see the pulse protruding near her exposed collarbone. I could make out her perked nipples through the thin materials of her tank top she had on underneath the yellow flannel, the glaze of her brown skin and warmness of her freckled cheeks... _**all too fuckin' tempting.**_

Holding my breath, I blink my darkened eyes once, twice before motioning to the leak in the engine. "We should stop it from leaking by clogging it with a cloth― _here_." I pulled my shirt over my head and handed it to her. "This should do the trick, ma'am."

But as she grasped it in her hands, Dawnette froze in place like a block of ice and just stared.

Her plump lips parted and her dark brown eyes slowly wandered around my features, greedily taking in everything they saw―including my scars.

"Jasper..." Nailah's voice was barely above a whisper as she slowly inched a hand out, finger spread, slowly inching towards my chest.

Her fingertips touched my chest was my undoing. A growl found it's way in the back of my throat and I swear my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Her warm, soft fingertips gingerly flickered over a bite mark― _1868_ , a run-in with Peter. We were training and he got a little too frisky. I never forgave him for that I think.

She traced fingers to the next one, all the while her eyes in a daze and plump lips parted. Her breaths were deep and slow―me? I held my fuckin' breath. And let her touch them. _**She was the only one that could.**_

"Your scars..." She murmured, swallowing thickly. "So... many..."

Her eyes met mine for a brief second before she slowly inched away. "Do they hurt?" She looked like she wanted to reach forward again, and I felt an unyielding desire well up in her. One that made me want to just push her up against the nearest tree and love her.

But again, there were the precautions.

She wasn't my mate. Who knows if she was my Nailah? _**She is**_. But then again she isn't. And Alice. My lil' pixie wife, Alice. I owe her one. She saved me from destruction and how valid was that to pay her back like this?

If Nailah was so phased by these scars... then she had no idea where the true ones were. The many ones I inflicted on myself for leaving her all those years ago. From still holding onto her. From letting her leave me. From loving her. Craving for her.

I grin a wry smile, closing my eyes briefly before saying, "These ain't the ones that hurt most, ma'am."

Once my eyes open, plaid yellow is tossed at me. " _Here_." Instant reflexes allow me to catch it and I am met with her unreadable eyes.

"What's... what's this?" I straighten the garment and then realize it's the yellow flannel she wore today.

Having that intoxicating scent practically resting in my hands was enough to make me want to drive myself over the edge. The cotton, honey-suckle, exotic fruits― _God_ , I couldn't even pinpoint every single addition to her initial scent. It was so good. It smelled so divine.

It took all the will-power I developed over the years to not bring her flannel to my nose and just inhale. Not to sink my teeth into her soft, chocolate flesh and make her mine. Not to let my arousal to her smell cloud my mind.

"You're shirtless." Dawnette spoke, snapping me out of my thoughts. She flicked my elbow before walking back over to the broke-down truck.

"Cover up, _Jazz_." She almost sneered, this feeling of annoyance and jealousy arising inside her at the mention of Alice's nickname for me: _Jazz_.

"Thank you, ma'am..." I barely got out, slowly slipping my arms into the flannel. I held my breath as I did so, inching each flap up to my shoulders, trying my hardest not to get that much on me―I'd probably drive myself crazy. And the very fact that she watched me with such an intensity in her dark brown eyes as I put on her flannel... Fuck, I sincerely hope she didn't notice the erection jutting at the side of my leg.

"I don't stink." Nailah chided, stomping over to me. As she pursed her plump lips, her tiny fingers grasped at the flaps of the flannel. I could hear her heart against her ribcage and her body heat up as she pushed the small, black buttons in the slips. "And you button like― _this_." Her dark eyes met mine and at the moment the breath that I had been holding sucked out in a gush and all I could do was gaze back.

"Thank you again―" I stopped to breath fresh air as she stumbled back a bit and nodded. She was just as flustered as I felt... "You smell _really, really_... **good**."

 **Dawnette's POV**

" _That's_ your house?" I exclaimed once my eyes got a hold of the large mansion staring back at me.

"It is." Jasper confirmed with a firm nod and small, pasty smile.

I shook my head and crossed my arms. "You jiving me again, _honey-blonde_?"

 _This_ house was the house that Jasper Hale was staying in?

It was good looking. Like a tall glass of water with three ice cubes on a hot summer day. Painted an off-white, decorated with cedar. Modern and stylish, three-stories.

What was I doing here?

Oh, nothing.

Just that honey-blonde offered me to ride back to his place and get Bella's truck fixed. Said his other brother (apparently he had two adoptive brothers) loved fixing cars and was a self-made mechanic. It was wonder how he even managed to get this truck all the way over here. But I figure why not let the dude fix my cousin's truck and get a glimpse into his home-life?

Kill two birds with one stone.

Risk it, to get the biscuit.

Even though I claimed _'fuck him'_ because of the incident this morning.

"No ma'am, I'm not." Jasper nodded once again, opening the door to Bella's rusty orange truck.

" _Mhm._ Yet you still call ma'am, huh." I sass, pursing my lips. He swiftly walked over to my side and extended his hand. I stared at it for a moment before grasping it. Nice tight grip. Smooth palms. Soft fingertips. Cold hands.

"Sorry ma'am―I mean _Dawnette_." He looked down at our hands still intertwined together. His grip tightened and I tightened mine, too.

"Call me _Dawn_." I mumbled, my eyes never looking away from our hands. The contrast of our skin tones, the way the fit perfectly together. The way they looked so uniformed, locked like that.

I never wanted to let it go, though. And I was hoping Jasper didn't either.

 _Girl, you better stop. Alice in Wonderland held this same hand this morning, remember?_

You right, self-conscious... but _**I'm**_ holding it now.

He guides me up the three steps leading to the mahogany-clad glass doors― _still_ holding my hand. Which made me giddy as hell.

Jasper chirped, bowing his head slightly, honey-blonde curls following suit. "After you, ma'am― _Dawn_."

Sadly, I let go of his hand to allow myself to walk in. And that shit hurt. It felt like I was giving away my soul.

Plus my hand felt frozen. He was so damn cold.

That cold front must have really been moving in―on his hands.

I walked around the vast living room, impressed with the color schemes; brown, crème, tan, gold. It was on point. And the use of African artifacts... I turn to Jasper, who I could sense was watching my every move.

"Damn, you part African or something?" I placed a hand on my hip. "Or just trying to _appropriate_?"

"Esme―my... adoptive mother―she does a lot of traveling. Nigeria is her favorite part of Africa and she just likes to decorate with things she finds appealing." Jasper explained, his southern tone brewing at the top of his voice. "As for _culture appropriation*_ ―Esme appreciates but stays in her respective zone. She wouldn't come from Africa trying to be an African or take up their culture as her own, let alone disrespect it."

 **Regular POV**

Dawnette soaked in everything the honey-blonde vampire said, cocking her head to the side.

 _Decent mother, at least._ She thought to herself, before sassing, "And what about you, _Jazz_?" She wanted to hear his opinions―and it was no surprise that _Jazz_ came out as a sneer―She was still _salty*_ about this morning and _Alice in Wonderland_.

Jasper must have noticed this, and wryly grinned at her. The feelings of annoyance and slight jealousy was just tugging on his empathic abilities―like a tug-of-war match. "I take it you're not to fond of my nickname, ma'am." He was at her side as he explained, "But, _nah_. You wouldn't catch me one day deciding to dreadlock my hair and wear Rastafarian colors, claiming to be one. I'm just me. Plain ol' _Jasper Hale_."

He gestured to himself, another small grin plastering on his marbled face, and then motioned for her to follow.

"Well spoken." Dawnette noted, shrugging her shoulders once.

"Thank you―"

"Dawn." She interrupted him before he could bust out the _ma'am_.

Jasper smiled a cheeky smile that made his _butterscotch_ ―hell yeah, Dawn noticed the fact that the turned dark before―eyes twinkle under the dim lights of the home's living room. " _Dawn_." He articulated her name as if he was taste testing an expensive wine.

It sent tingles up-and-down her spine at the way her name rolled from his tone―that southern accent booming.

Dawnette followed Jasper up a grand staircase, her fingertips roaming over the polished wood and different furniture pieces. He stopped in front of a door in the middle of the hallway and opened it, gesturing for her to walk inside.

"Cool room but this big bed?" His bedroom was painted a dark burgundy color, with dark carpets instead of hard, cherry wood floors like the rest of the house. One large, gaping window that showed the miles of forest and woods that the house was surrounded by. Like her room back at her uncle Charlie's house.

Sparsely decorated with mahogany wood items and that hulking, king sized bed in the middle of the room.

"I sleep wild..." Jasper trailed off, his eyes gawked at her.

"I see." She whispered, looking around the room.

When she turned to face him, he was closer than she expected and she slammed directly into him. It was like stumbling back and hitting a wall―of course, there was the part of that incident where after you hit the wall, you'd bounce off of it and before she could, he grabbed her arm, steadying her, which made sure she didn't fall―in the process pulling her impossibly closer.

Being this close to him made her skin prickle.

That simple accident that conspired in less than five seconds, was like a chain reaction. An atom splitting.

Because all she could do is stare into his eyes and all he could do was gaze back into hers. And her _smell_. She scent was so damn good that Jasper _Whitlock_ stopped breathing. The air was so fucking thick with her smell―the cotton, the honey-suckle, the exotic fruits... her permeating arousal... He had to stop breathing. He had to hold in his breath because his arm was slowly wounding around her wide hips and slender waist, his long and nimble fingers gingerly trailing over the small of her back... he was _**hard**_. And he didn't give a shit if she felt it, either. He didn't care about fixing her cousin's truck or about his family out hunting. He only wanted her. His Nailah. And she wanted him. Her Major.

It was silent... the only thing heard being Dawnette's hitched breaths escaping her parted lips every second or so.

For her, she had no idea once-so-ever on what was going on between her and this boy. He incited such feelings from her―overly intense feelings that sent her over the edge. Three days. Not _two weeks_. Not a month. Not a year. Three days been in town. And in those three days, she never thought she'd dream such a passionate dream about a complete stranger, nor be this close to _said_ stranger that didn't feel like a stranger―especially after what he did this morning, which pissed her off.

Any guy that pissed her off, it was a _bye_.

But for him?

Mr. Jasper Hale?

She changed that. And she changed her own fucking code for this nigga and don't know why.

It felt right.

But this right here? Him holding her like this was gonna' get them both in trouble.

Dawnette saved them both when she blurted out over the silence as her eyes roamed down to his lean arms wrapped tightly around her waist, firm hands resting on the small of her back... inches away from her ass, "I've never heard of an _Alaskan_ with a southern accent."

Was it wrong for her to want him to grab it? _Yes, it is!_ Dawn screamed inside. _But... his hands... the way he's holding me... Lord, please. I'm about to catch the Holy Ghost..._

Jasper blinked twice and resumed breathing again, "What was that?"

He seemed to have realized he was holding her so close and hadn't released his hold on her, Jasper slowly let her go and took a step back. The feeling causing a small rip to sear right through his dead heart.

The tension between them, the chemistry, his hardness, their want and passion they had for each other just a few seconds ago complete disappeared―Jasper dulled his and her senses, making them both completely feel like none of _that_ happened.

" _Ya' accent_ ," she mocked, trying to sound southern. "Bitches― _people_ at school ㈂9 like, you and whoever your family is... are from Alaska."

Jasper shifted before simply saying, "I... date back to the south."

" _Same_. Georgia for me." - " _Cordele._ " Other than Forks for summers and any type of school breaks she got off, Dawn was a Georgia baby. Something her mom said about living there for generation after generation?

Jasper was thoughtful of that, a dreamy smile plastering on his face, "I've been there before. _Plenty_ of times. You must be used to the heat."

She snickered, roaming fingers through her short curls, "Hell yeah! Why you think I went for the short look?"

"I was wondering that―you looked beautiful with your long curls... still look it even with 'em short like that."

"You speak as if..."

"I speak as if I could see you with them." Jasper quickly interjected. "Sorry if that was―"

"No... it's fine." Dawn brushed it off, with a wave of her hand.

She motioned to his bed.

"May I?"

"Please." Jasper nodded quietly.

Dawnette gently took a seat on the big bed cast off in the middle of his burgundy painted room. "You know, I might just let you keep that flannel."

She smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It was either awkward around them or tense; awkward or tense with _emotions_.

"It looks good on you. Better than it looks on me." She added, letting dark brown eyes look at each aspect of him in her clothing. It was an _L_ -sized shirt that she picked up in the men's section at the Albany mall in Georgia. It looked good on her and she liked certain baggy clothing, so she got it along with the rest of the outfits brought that day.

And with it on Jasper, even though it was baggy on her, it fit him like a glove. The flannel, which he rolled up to his elbows, complimented his lean body. He was good-looking. And not just the weird, honey-blonde that thought it was cool to constantly look like he was in pain and have a staring contest/play mental _Dawnette-Says_.

Dawnette was quiet, looking up at Jasper who towered over her. His scarred, marbled face was blank as if he wasn't even _here_. But it was okay, because Dawn used to do that too. Go to a different world in the back of her mind. Except she didn't wince like he did just now.

She shot up the instant the honey-blonde shivered like he just had been shot with a jolt of electricity.

"Something wrong, Jasper?" Dawn questioned, automatically grabbing a hold of his hand, squeezing tightly.

"Just a migraine." He sighed heavily, pinching his temples when she let his hand go.

"Here. Sit back." Smiling sheepishly, Dawnette pat her lap with both hands, an ominous clapping sound coming from her thick thighs. "I'll massage your temples."

At the sudden request, Jasper was already on the floor before she could even blink, but he was skeptical, murmuring, "Ma'am, I don't think―

"I ain't licensed. But I do massage good. Trust my hands." She pat her thighs again, flexing her dainty fingers.

"Ok― _ay_." He slurred his words the moment her warm fingertips touched his frozen temples, massaging them in a circular motion. She sat above him on the bed, and he sat on the carpeted floors of his bedroom; but she motioned for him to scoot closer, with his body resting in between her legs.

It was weird, though.

It's not everyday that she offers to massage someone's temples. But as said so many times before, it felt right. Everything with him felt right. She barely knew this dude. But _damn_.

She was into it as much as he was into it. She was applying the right amount of softness and pressure to his temples, soothing his headache. _Hell_ , Jasper didn't even have one anymore the moment she touched his head.

"What kind of music do ya' like?" Jasper found himself asking.

Dawnette answered with a soft laugh. "My music taste consists of songs I play on repeat until I get tired of hearing them and the lyrics are stuck in my head."

"And hobbies?"

" _Anything_." She sighed. "And you?"

"The same goes for me." He smirked.

Jasper chuckled and Dawn joined in.

To him, it was nostalgia. After the Confederate surrendered in the war and he broke off from Maria for those couple of months to stay with Nailah, they'd sit on the porch of the house he built her, just basking in each other's feelings. Jasper would feel the love from her and he'd emit the love right back with his empathic abilities he figured he had.

And when he'd get his migraines from feeling too much from her and others, she'd massaged his temples.

This was his Nailah. There was no doubt about it.

And once his head stopped hurting... he'd slowly trail kisses up her thighs... and somehow, he subconsciously found himself doing that right now.

Dawnette froze in place, her eyes widened and breath hitched once she felt Jasper's cool lips on her thigh. And how he slowly trailed his lips up her thigh.

She moaned slightly at the feeling of his cool breath―even through her wool tights, she could feel his lips.

She lay down, her back fitting the soft mattress―Jasper appearing to hover over her, his lips inching towards hers.

* * *

 _Theme song of chapter_

 _Walk Til' You're Dead_ by _FKA twigs_

 _Two Weeks_ by _FKA twigs_

* * *

 _*―_ references

 _Culture Appropriation_ ― The act of taking customs, practices, or traditions from one culture (usually by a member of a dominant culture) to either mock or simplify the meaning or significance of that piece of culture. Also, taking/wearing something from another culture and appreciating it only when it is not on the body of a member of that culture.

 _Salty_ ― pissed, upset

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 **Damn, I hit y'all with the major cliff-hanger.**

 **What did you all think? This one took a while too because I wanted the right words to be said.**

 **Anyways, what did you all think? Intense? Funny? Crazy? What's going to happen next?**

 **Review and let me know! I have a goal of at least 30 before the next chapter. Let's reach it again!**

 **Thanks For Reading!**

 **Stay tooned for the next chapter! It gets very, very intense.**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


	9. Closer

**Omigat it took long enough right?! Ugh, I know. I still write, I do, but sometimes you know... shit happens. And I think good shit happened when it came to this chapter, because I absolutely love it and I am** _ **so**_ **looking forward to all of these dream sequences.**

 **That's right, y'all got another one. And more longer one. And of course, a continuation of last chapter.**

 **By the way, starting chapter 8, things will turn M-rated. Language, violence, themes, sexual content.**

 **Happy reads, guy! And see ya at the bottom!**

* * *

Chapter 8: Closer

Dawnette abruptly cleared her throat yet observed Jasper as he began to unbutton his shirt but then he stopped, his arms falling to his sides like strings that had been cut.

They stared at one another―Dawnette wondering what was going through his mind as well as Jasper probably doing the same.

"J-Jasper...?" She finally spoke, her usual sassy voice toned down to a soft, wary murmur.

"Ma'am?" He managed to get out, still hovering above her petite form.

Dawn released a heavy sigh, snapping in a shaky tone, "Wh-What the hell―are you doing?"

"I-I'm..." He trailed off, eyes widening. Because truth be told, Jasper had no idea what he was doing. He was caught in the moment. She smelled so good, looked so beautiful and truly was his Nailah―she had to be.

And with just thinking that she was his... Jasper found that total combination intoxicating and the urge to kiss her became overwhelming.

The urge to bite into the slow, beating pulse near her exposed neck was half of what he thought about. And most of all, the desire to kiss and taste her on his lips was what set him off the deep end. Jasper was unable to hold himself in check any longer; he gingerly yet roughly pulled her petite form into his arms and kissed her passionately.

Her lips were just as he imagined―soft and warm against his. They were the same lips he kissed all those years ago, the same sleek tongue that would gingerly flick over his lips and it was the same tangy taste that flooded his mouth. Each peck and kiss, Jasper became more wild. Each second he continued to kiss her, the more he began to touch her, and she touch him.

Her dainty, warm hands slipped up his chest, one hand feeling over his shoulder and the other resting against his dead heart―hell, it might as well be beating.

Dawn gave in fully. She pressed up harder against his sculpted lips; her wet pink tongue flicking against them. She had no idea how she wound herself up in this situation but now that they were practically making out, she didn't care. Let her be considered a homewrecker*―she thought Jasper and Alice looked too much alike to be dating anyways.

It felt so good and so right, too. They _both_ couldn't help but let out that involuntary moan and push each other's hips up further against one another.

Jasper was rock hard. He slowly ground his erection against her softness, moaning once he started to smell the current arousal. Her scent, her skin, her mouth, her hands and then her tongue; all being too much for his senses.

Dawnette pulled away once she felt lightheaded from all of the kissing―unabashedly the two stared at one another―lustful, molten onyx-black gazing deeply into her dark brown eyes; she began to fidget under his heated scrutiny and shiver from his cold touch.

She was panting and running a fingertip across her swollen lips, not sure if she was dreaming or not. From the way he was looking at her, she could tell that he was thinking the same thing. That they just kissed and were mere moments away from getting with each other. And Jasper wanted to do it so bad. Make love to her once. And then twice. Again and again and again. But something was holding him back.

 _Alice_ was holding him back. The _memories_ were holding him back. They came in flooding. The words they exchanged that fateful day.

" _Are you… uh, traveling somewhere, ma'am?"_

" _Up north."_

" _North?"_

" _Maybe Vermont or New York—some state wherever home feels most and where I's settle for good."_

" _So..."_

" _I'm leaving, Jasper." - "In the three weeks you been gone… I's had some time to think to myself and I's decided that… I'_ _ **ve**_ _—"_

" _Please—don't—don't leave me…"_

" _Jasper, you've been gone all the time and—"_

" _Nailah, I can't be without you—_ _ **please**_ _."_

She blinked her eyes twice and slowly rose up from the plush bed.

" _Honey-blonde_... what are you doing?" Dawn looked around while scratching her head. She was lost; had no idea what was going on― _confused_. Jasper was standing at the foot of the bed, a forlorn expression on his marbled face. Bare chested and everything. Her eyes trailed down to his sculpted abs and then back to the detached look in his eyes. Dawn pursed her lips and asked, "Where am I...? What am I doing here?"

One of his pasty smiles that didn't reach the eyes shown and he chirped, "Don't you remember, Dawnette?" She gave him a puzzled look and he elaborated with a forced chuckle, "I just finished fixing your cousin's truck. It broke down and then we bumped into each other on the road."

"Oh..."

"So you can go home now." He quickly said.

She nodded, reaching for her discarded flannel on his bed. That confused her too. She only had on a thin tank top, no bra at all, her nipples were perked and she felt _hot_ yet _cold_. Why on earth would _she_ ―Dawnette Nailah Long, take off her flannel in front of _him_ ―Jasper Hale, a guy that she barely knew―and reveal herself like that?

It wasn't quite making sense but suddenly... she felt _content_. Dawnette settled for the explanation, gathered up her flannel, put it back on and buttoned it up to the top, feeling more secure, especially while under the scrutiny of him.

She nodded her head once, standing up and stretching her limbs. And the words tumbled out as she worked out the kinks in her back and lower thighs, "Oh... okay―I-I think I'm going to go home and... _paint_."

"Y-You paint?" He had to ask― _Nailah_ painted.

Dawn shrugged and frowned. "Not a lick." It was true. She couldn't paint for shit. But she would. Because somehow... there was this urge. Like a hidden talent. And she was going to fulfill it.

"So, uh―thanks for fixing the truck...?" She trailed off, once Jasper tossed her the keys to her cousin's _Chevy_. He was a little far. Like _on the other side of the room_ far.

She didn't question it though. And watched as he sighed once. "No problem, ma'am." Jasper tipped his head to her. "Have a good night."

She approached the only door in sight. But turned around. "Which way―"

He cut her off, "Down the hall, to the left and you should see the staircase and glass double doors."

"Thanks..." Dawnette's muttered.

He nodded once, his lips forming a thin line. "Yeah."

Jasper waited until the pitter-patter of her soft steps died down, the engine of the truck roared to life and he could hear her driving away, out of his hearing range. The honey-blonde vampire let out a groan loud enough to shake the trees surrounding the house.

It was the hardest thing he's had to do, other than leaving her and giving up human blood: pretending like nothing never happened. Lying to her face. And act cold to her.

Jasper flung himself on his bed, snapping the frame in the process. But he didn't want care. He buried his head under the mountain of feathered pillows.

"Jazzy-Jazz!" Emmett bellowed from the living room. He raced up the stairs with vampiric speed, barging in Jasper's room without so much as knocking. "You can hunt now―me and Rose finished and Alice's waiting for ya'."

The broad grin that showed off his dimples slowly faded. "You look like shit." Emmett said, taking in Jasper's appearance.

"I feel like shit." The honey-blonde mumbled into the pillow.

 _1859, Georgia_

 _This land was foreign. The soil under her bare feet felt dry yet moist at the same time and the sun was covered by clouds. She could tell she was not home because the sun always shone bright and would always dim under the big feathery clouds. There was no thick forest and the soil didn't pack the usual moisture it did back at home._

 _She could only listen to the elders around her, chained in shackles as well and stare in curiosity yet caution at the sparkling, white figure with features she had never seen in her fifteen years of living. Features that were only heard in the stories told by her father. Stories about a man with no color, with sparkling skin during the day and luminous skin in the night. His dark red eyes seeking out women and children and his sharp teeth pointed towards his next victim. Features that were said to be made by a figmentation of the devil, himself._

 _She had no idea where she was. Or what she was doing. All Nailah knew was that she was a long way from home. And that her arms and feet ached from the extensive pressure of the shackles. And she was scared._

 _"You will refer to me as James." A gruff tone said. Nailah, along with a few others peeked from the line to get a look at just who exactly was speaking with such authority and a foreign tongue. His tone sounded musical though. Like the wind instruments played for music during various celebrations."_ _ **Master**_ _James."_

 _"And you are here for one reason and one reason only." James held up one finger and looked each and every one of his newly imported slaves in the eyes. Nailah listening attentively and closely to his musical voice―he was a complete stranger and definitely dangerous, but curiosity was a given trait. She watched as he stuffed his sparkling hands in the pockets of his pants and walked down the line, looking them each in the eye. His red eyes stopped on her and she gulped- feeling the urge to cover herself up―but the shackles on her arms..._

 _James smirked a toothy grin and finished his briefing, on the newly 'imports'."You're here to pick cotton, which makes me money."_

 _Nailah could feel the fear washing throughout her body. She could feel the tiny beads of sweat rolling down the nape of her neck. And instead of looking away and averting eye contact, all she could do was stare at this man._

 _James shrugged while snorting, "Got you all for a bargain anyways. Dumb ass village leaders were too scared to negotiate. Something about me being a..." He paused and chirped the last part, "I believe your village leader called me a―idimoni*?" James smiled evilly at the way most of the new imports gasped and had outcry._

 _"That's right." He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "I am the devil himself and you shall work for me."_

 _James snapped his fingers, the outcry coming from those that were just as scared as her, silencing in mere seconds._

 _"You there." James pointed a finger to the hulking black man, next in line. "State your name."_

 _There was a silence._

 _James leaned forward. "Did I hear anything, fellas?" He turned to his overseers and young honey-blonde._

 _They all answered responses in the forms of "no"._

 _"It seems we have a brave nigger on our hands," James bellowed. "This nigger here thinks he doesn't have to speak when spoken to." James chuckled, roaming his fingers through the ponytail resting on his shoulders._

 _His chuckling died down once his eyes darkened and he seethed through gritted teeth, "Well, you thought wrong."_

 _James had the broad man―pure muscle compared to his average stature―on his knees._

 _"Anything to say for yourself?" James taunted, kicking up his chin with the tip of his boot._

 _The African man, a valiant one Nailah recognized from her village, set his jaw and looked straight ahead, his pride never leaving his body. She and the others watched in horror as the self-proclaimed devil kicked the man again, this time with more force that blood and spit flew from his mouth._

 _"I asked you a question, nigger, and I shall have an answer." James crouched low, asking again, "You maybe were something in your village but here, you're_ _ **nothing**_ _. And_ _ **I**_ _am your master."_

 _The man's response was his spit flying onto Jame's sparkling face._

 _The blonde wiped his face skew with disgust. He looked down at the man kneeling before him, the pride never fading from his brown eyes. And that's when James chuckled darkly before beckoning him on._

 _"Go 'head and run. Run nigger, run." Everyone watched with wary eyes. It was too good to be true. He was releasing him? Even the overseers glanced at the blonde man in surprise._

 _"Master James?" One of the overseers questioned, waisting his eyebrows. His hand ghosted over the revolver holstered to his waist. But James only held up a hand to the white man and then motioned to the black man._

 _"Go on and get, nigger." He smirked and bowed his head slightly. "I concede you. You're brave. Braver than any nigger I know―far too brave to work for me in my plantation."_

 _James took the single key held to one of the loops on his pants and unlatched the shackles adorning his arms and legs._

 _"You's just fixin' to shoot me down, anyways." The black man said, looking James dead in the eye―one of Nailah's father's good comrades._

 _"With what gun?" James held up his hands and spun around for the man to see. "All I have here is my whip."_

 _"But perhaps!" He suddenly exclaimed. "There is a catch to me letting you go." He slowly stalked around the man._

 _"I hear from your village leader―a man I bargained with to get you all to me in tip-top shape―that you're one of his best. Skills in hunting, tracking, anything you baboons are capable of."_

 _"Just kill me already and spare my brothas and sistas from your folly, demon."_

 _"I'll won't kill you if you get away." James tested._

 _"So go on, run, nigger." He chuckled again, turning his back to him. "Lest you make the hunt more easier for me."_

 _He waved on the next one in line, listening to the reluctance in the pitter-patter of heavy, bare feet._

 _"Stay strong, my brothas and sistas." The man whispered in to the line of those from his village. They cheered him on and he slowly took off running towards the direction of the woods._

 _"You're letting him go, sire?" A southern, meek voice questioned._

 _His pink lips curved into a smug smile once he calculated in his mind the duration it'd take him to find the runaway slave. And how fun the hunt would be once he successfully tracked him. He turned to the honey-blonde, 16-year old. "I am."_

 _It was a hobbie after all._

 _"And I shall catch him." He winked an eye and waved on the next, once the cheering of coonery died down at those five words._

 _An hour passed and the line of his newly imports dimmed and dimmed. James successfully branded most as his property, got rid of those he considered inferior to pick cotton on his plantation and caught the one he let run away._

 _Dragging him back by his snapped legs, for all of those that the man knew to see._

 _"He must be out of his damn mind..." Nailah heard someone ahead of her whisper. The line was full of many strangers yet people that she knew; if this "James" told the village elders that he was an idimoni*, it was no surprise that he got away with all of them. The line was long and shackles even longer; many adults, mostly men and women, a few children here and there, watched as this man―this demon―took the leather whip from his waist and swiftly―too fast for her human eyes to even witness―and began to beat the life out of the man kneeling before him._

 _Nailah had to snap her eyes shut. She couldn't cover her ears and block out the pained screams coming from the man at her new master's feet._

 _"Boy, the sound of that whip sure is sweet!" James cracked the leather whip again with one swift motion. He laughed hysterically, chiming, "It's just like Jesus gently snapping his fingers!"_

 _"And now, as apart of your bargain―since I did find you―death." And it took less than a second for James to gather the beat man in his hands, snap his neck and sink his teeth into his flesh. James smoothed over his messy blonde hair and smiled broadly at the line of Africans. He waved a glittery hand and the next slave―a boy named Yuru that was apart of the hunters for her village―reluctantly stepped forward._

 _He had a permanent scowl etched in his face and he stared James down, as dark as ebony glaring into as red as blood colored-eyes. Bloody-red eyes that slowly morphed into a dark, molten color. As black as the night._

 _That was his father._

 _James lips curled back slowly. "Is you defying me boy?"_

 _"You better listen to that fool before he hits you with that whip!" Someone from the line shouted._

 _"I'm nobody's property and neither are you!" Yuru yelled to the crowd in their language. Tears began to stream down his face. It must have ticked the sparkling white man off because in a mere second he had Yuru on his hands and knees, whipping the life out of him._

 _"You niggers listen up here―one of ways you won't reach the end of my whip―is by speaking this language that I speak to you right now." James pointed a finger to himself. It was scary on how fast his arm flicked back and forth. It was scary how by the time he was finished, Yuru barely had any skin un-knicked on his back and was a sobbing mess. And very scary how James suddenly looked like an idimoni* for real, this time._

 _With his dark eyes, curled back lips, sharp fangs and hands formed into claws._

 _Even the white men around him―his workers, Nailah assumed, look scared out of their mind._

 _She had to work for this man? She was now a slave?_

 _Her father told her about these types of things. And being the oblivious little girl she was, Nailah didn't take heed to his warnings or stories spread around the village. And now, it was too late. Because every last one of them were true._

 _"So speak it!" James bellowed at the top of his lungs. He growled,"Speak this language!"_

 _He dashed to the nearest slave woman in sight and wrapped cold, steel hands around her neck, seething, "Or I'll give you as many lashes as I feel until I tire. And may I remind you."_

 _He held out his whip and made sure to give those watching the scene in shock―his cruelty to a whimpering woman―a malicious look._

 _"You see this body? These eyes? This perfection?" James gestured to each aspect of himself, his tone darkening."I_ _ **never**_ _tire."_

 _"You'd be whipped until you die. And then I shall enjoy myself further to ways you cannot imagine."_

 _"Do not defy me." He warned, his tone hard. Cynical. "If you do not know this language before the sun rises again tomorrow, you will be punished."_

 _"Now. Next one." James rolled his whip up and holstered it to his waist. He snapped his fingers once, twice. "Step forward."_

 _Nailah gulped, looking back at the many others already being brought away and the few remaining._

 _"Don't speak, child." - "Your father is a strong man. He will get us free." An elder―a woman from her village whispered low enough for only Nailah to hear. She nodded meekly as a response and was about to step forward before the sparkling man appeared beside her._

 _"You better speak." - "I believe your father told me to leave you be―and of course he made that mistake of telling_ _ **me**_ _what to do." James sneered, cackling at the look of shock that spread across the girl and the woman's faces. He pointed a finger as a sign of warning at the woman and turned to Nailah who stood before him. "What's your name?"_

 _The brown skinned girl was in shock. This man... this demon, implied the death of her father. Her very own father. She could cry at how she was stuck in such a predicament of now never being able to live a normal life as a girl and for the fact that she was now going to be a slave the moment she gave her name to her new master._

 _"Jasper, did this nigras say anything?" James turned to the white boy who looked about her age. He didn't look strong though. He wasn't strong like Yuru or any of the others she knew of her age. And he was with_ _ **him**_ _. Working for this cruel and sparkling demon._

 _"No, sire." That's when she fully noticed him. The tall, lean white boy standing off at the side with some form of writing material in his hands. As this land was foreign, so was the things in his hand―looked like smooth bark* and a thin, colored material*._

 _James nodded. "Okay, I'll ask it again."_

 _"What―is―your―name?" He said it slowly this time. Treating her as if she had no comprehension. And it angered Nailah. She wasn't dumb by a long shot. She had skills for her lifestyle and the gall to learn to speak her native language of zulu and others close to their migrated home in Nigeria―including the words that this white idimoni* spoke. Her mother was a gatherer. Father a hunter and leader. She inherited both of their skills. Worked liked them, too._

 _She knew how to survive._

 _"Nothing? No response?" James rolled his eyes and turned to the two older overseers of his plantation. "Okay, see to it that this nigras is loaded up with the rest of those baboons and ship 'em off somewhere other than my plantation―"_

 _But being in a foreign land, filled with many lacking melanin and the possibility of facing others just as cruel as this man... was not the way. She had no idea where she was or how to get back home. Her best bet was to let this demon know that she was not dumb or defiant and then assess on how to get herself as far away from him as possible, along with her brothers, sisters and elders. They'd work their way up and escape. Gather resources and make it out of this hell alive._

 _It was a plan._

 _Her thin yet plump lips parted out a sigh. Nailah spoke the English language, "My name is Nailah."_

 _And that was when James froze in place. His head cocking slightly to the side, his eyes darkening in fascination. "Excuse me?"_

 _"My name is Nailah." She spoke once more, the language foreign on her tongue. She'd need to speak it in front of these people when James and his overseers were around. She had to get used to it._

 _There was a stagnant silence that was overthrown once James―the cruel, sparkling slavemaster―grew an ear-to-ear smile on his face that sort of showed the human left in him. It was another shocker for the day to his overseers, the newly imported slaves and the young honey-blonde._

'Is this man not as sadistic as I thought?' _Nailah thought to herself, frowning at the way he clapped his hands and pranced around._

 _"Joyous day! Joyous day! She talks!" He beamed._

 _"The nigras talks!" He cheered on, cackling up a storm of laughter that trilled from the back of his throat. "She ain't stupid like the rest of her kind!"_

 _"Oh, joyous day..." He finally seemed to have a sense of calm. And regained himself back to his usual arrogant, boasting and cocky form."It's a good thing too. I paid a high price for your travels."_

 _He wasn't exactly talking to Nailah―it didn't seem so to her. He was slowly stalking around her. Slowly taking every inch of her naked, petite form in. Talking more to himself than anyone else, "I wouldn't have wanted it to go to waste and your looks―you look like you were born to the field. It'd be a shame to cast you off like the rest."_

 _James stopped beside her and placed a steel, icy hand on her shoulder sending chills and terror creeping down her spine. "Jasper, take down her name."_

 _The honey-blonde named Jasper held up the materials in his hand, scribbled with different names of the new imports and readied his quill. "Right, sire. How do I spell―"_

 _James abruptly paused his eyes roaming up and down Nailah's features. His head snapped in Jasper's direction._

 _"Jasper."_

 _"Yes, sire?" The boy answered, looking up from the scroll on the board in his hands._

 _"Is you dumb? Or is you stupid?" James snapped, marching over to him._

 _"Neither, sire."_

 _He smacked Jasper on the back of the head, sighing exasperatedly, "Come on, boy! I didn't take you under my tutelage to be as dumb as these niggers right here." - "If you have a hard time saying or writing the name of a slave―simply change it."_

 _"Right, sire... I didn't know..." He trailed off, gulping slightly at the close proximity that his Master was within._

 _Jasper Hale came from Texas. His family ran into this mysterious man named James and welcomed him into their home. Jasper strayed away from the man but his father practically took in his features of perfection and tendacy to sparkle as a blessing―begging the man named James to take Jasper in and mentor him on becoming a fine plantation owner; even if it wasn't in the interests of what Jasper wanted to do, anyways._

 _But it was a honorable thing for James to accept. Thus, landing him far from home, in the state of Georgia, working for this man who was as cruel as ever. He hadn't anticipated that, either._

 _'_ Strange, cruel and claiming to be demonic. Thanks pa'. _' Jasper thought to himself, huffing ever so slightly._

 _"What should she be called?" He gestured his head in the direction of the nigras that his Master seemed to had taken a strange liking to._

 _'_ If you could call it that. _' He thought again._

 _Jasper watched with wary eyes as his Master slowly wound his hands around the nigras' neck. Roaming his sparkling fingers over her collarbone and throat. "Hm," he thought out loud, looking her over. "Call her..._ _ **Nia**_ _."_

 _"N-I-A?" Jasper spelled out, scribbling on his scroll. He turned his eyes away from the darkening of Jame's. It was unusual indeed._

 _She didn't look any different from the others on the plantation. Other than her deep curly hair, high cheekbones and spotted freckles across her nose. She wasn't a mulatto*. She was a nigras. And Jasper knew that._

 _"Correct." James nodded briefly. His voice was soft as he mulled over, "_ _ **Nia**_ _, my cotton picking nigras who ain't so stupid after all."_

 _"My name is Nailah―" Nailah spoke up but her new Master's cold hands clamped over her mouth. She shivered slightly and fidgetted around in her shackles at how close he was behind her. And how he seemed content with touching all over her neck and face when just minutes ago, he was a murderer._

 _James pressed gently in her ears, "Your name is_ _ **Nia**_ _."_

 _He lingered a second longer before gently shoving her in the direction of the other branded slaves._

 _"Now take her away to the slave's quarters. Let Mistress get them some food and then to work." James ordered to one of his overseers._

 _Once he was back at Jasper's side, that hardened and sadistic demeanor came back in place._

 _They're to start pickin' today?" The young boy asked._

 _"Yeah." James nodded. "These niggers were made for the field."_

 _It was a bit too demanding. Jasper sighed, "But sire, they just―"_

 _"Jasper Whitlock, your father claims you should be held in high regards―was he mistaken me? Shall I not permit you to oversee on this here plantation?" James threatened._

 _"No, sire..." The honey-blonde gulped. "He wasn't mistaken you. And I shall allow myself to oversee on this plantation, if you will have me."_

 _"Then stop questioning orders. This is how things are done." James snapped, glaring slightly at the 16-year old._

 _"Yes, sire."_

 _James huffed and turned to the remaining imports."Now, next one. Step forward and state your name."_

 _..._

 _8 months later, 1860_

 _"Nedra―192 pounds." Jasper read from his tally sheet._

 _James clearly uninterested, picked at the dirt underneath his nails, sighing, "What's the average number a nigger or nigras can pick?"_

 _"200 pounds." Jasper shrugged once._

 _"Line 'er up, Jasper." James snapped his fingers."50 lashes."_

 _Nedra pleaded to her master, trading her stomach, "No, massa'. I-I's with child―I's do better tomorrow, I promise!"_

 _"I know you will, Nedra." Her master smiled evilly. "Those lashes will provide you the incentive to do so." He brushed her off and motioned to the astonished boy._

 _"But, Master James... she's pregnant―"_

 _"Next." He interrupted and beckoned Jasper to continue on. "And mind you, I have excellent hearing, Jasper. Keep those thoughts to yourself. You'll never get anywhere with pure kindness to these savages."_

 _"Yes sire..." He sighed in defeat and continued to read down the list. "Bass―234 pounds of cotton."_

 _"Better than yesterday." James nodded, a little impressed with the lanky slave he renamed Bass. Bass was a supposedly a pre-mature child, born early. Most on the market thought he'd die before he reached the age of 13, but they were wrong. He was a flourishing cotton-picker on Jame's plantation and he was worth keeping because he only paid half the price of an average slave for Bass._

 _Jasper continued down his list until he got to the name that peaked interest in his Master. "Nia―445 pounds of cotton."_

 _"That's my girl, Nia―a queen of the field, she is." The blonde vampire mused._

 _Jasper cleared his throat, reading the next one, "Jurain―212 pounds of―"_

 _But James cut him off. "Jasper."_

 _"Yes, sire?"_

 _"Am I permitted to celebrate the proceeds that Nia has given this here plantation?" He walked down the line of slaves, eying them evenly before his eyes landed on her._

 _"Sire―" The 16-year old tried to say, but James snapped in a harsh tone,_

 _"Silence, boy. Eight months in and you still have a lot to learn if you're father believes you can own and run a functioning plantation one day."_

 _He wiped imminent sweat from home s brows and roamed fingers through his damp, honey colored hair. "My apologies, sire." Bowing his head slightly._

 _"Cease the apologizing, as well, Jasper." James snapped, walking towards Nia. "Or I shall consider you as sorry as you say you are."_

 _He rounded behind her and wrapped cold fingers gingerly around her neck. "Now, onto my darkie queen―my prized possession―my cotton-picking nigras named Nia." Tracing a nimble finger over her protruding collarbone._

 _"A beauty she is." He whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. Touching her cheekbones, lips and cheeks. "You all witness this―she picks the most cotton than any nigger out there. Over 400 pounds a day."_

 _He inhaled her scent of cotton, hibbicus and pure sweat. "A queen she is. Born to the field. Just like I said she'd be."_

 _James was about to marvel on, until the doors to the barn slid open and a skinny slave came rushing in, bowing on his knees. "Massa'―permission tuh' intrude!"_

 _"What?!" James rolled his eyes and let Nia go. "What is it?!"_

 _The slave stammered, "Laurent―Master Laurent is here to see you!"_

 _"Ugh―that nigger. So damn lucky he's equal and just as me―thinks he can just come and interrupt me marveling in my own Nia―Jasper!" James seethed, turning back._

 _"Yes, sire."_

 _He instructed, "See to it that the tally is finished up. And pick 'em out. Let the overseers handle the rest once you finish."_

 _James warned to the young Jasper. "And do not fail me, boy."_

 _"Yes, sire..."_

 _..._

 **Dawnette's POV**

I feel like I'm the only one. I feel like it's only _me_ that has dreams like these. First it was the love-making with Jasper Hale under a sycamore tree, now it was me on a plantation with an obsessive slave master.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, and slowly rose out of bed.

 _Boy I tell ya'_... all of these dreams are giving me the blues.

I decide to make a cup of green tea before going back to bed, being that I only had another 3 hours until my alarm went off. And then another day of shit at school; _honey-blonde_ , my cousin and her little _Eddie_ , _Buff-Daddy_ and the irrelevant white man's foolishness.

And as I stared into the mug of brewing premium, green tea... I couldn't help but think back to the things that happened in my dream. So much acheing _―_ it was like I could still feel the shackles bounding my hands and feet _―_ like I could feel the sparkling man named _James_ just staring me down with pure obsession and want _―_ feel the pain all of those African people felt.

It was terrible. Not a good feeling.

* * *

 _Theme song of chapter:_

 _Closer by FKA twigs_

* * *

 _*―_ references

 _Homewrecker_ _―_ A person who takes a 'taken' individual with the intensions of breaking up the relationship and creating a relationship of their own.

 _Idimoni_ _―_ zulu-language, which translates to "demon".

 _Soft bark, stiff material_ _―_ when this is mentioned, Nailah describes what is her first time seeing a clipboard, piece of paper and pen (otherwise known as a quill and scroll back in the the old days)

 _Mulatto―_ (dated offensive, noun) a person of mixed white and black ancestry, especially a person with one white and one black parent.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Finally got this done. Ugh, I can't wait to get started on the next chapter.**

 **A certain antagonist is introduced in a dramatic way-you all have to be there to read it. Hopefully after midterms which is this entire week, I can get a start on it.**

 **But onto this chapter. What were you all thinking! They kissed. For real for real but Jasper had to go and make her forget. What do you guys think of that? I believe his empathy abilities are that strong that he could do that. He can make you feel what he wants for Christ's sake! And her dream... James... I find it interesting that he decided to go into the slaving business. And that Jasper is under his tutelage for the same thing.**

 **I loved that concept and will very much elaborate on that whole ordeal next chapter.**

 **Thanks for Reading!**

 **And please stay tooned.**

 **Review, as well!**

 **Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan**


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